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#idk if you like it im sure this could be a prompt
fangomango · 8 months
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Any weather that isn't super hot is rather romantic to me
Like it may be heavily pouring but all I want to do is take you outside and absorb the rain like a cactus
Texas for the sake of my now single life make every day not hot so I can think about my otps
:) thank you
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sacharinee · 1 year
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pairing: bf!peter x reader
synopsis: peter likes having you close to him. all the time
wc: 630 ish
a/n: surprise! another one oops. im rlly bored can u tell? cuddling prompt with peter. reader is a cheeky and annoying lil shit. one office reference. i saw a tiktok about this a long time ago and thought this would be a cute idea to write about. also does anyone know how cuddling works tho?? if ur laying on ur side, do u just lay on top of the arm ur crushing on? under a pillow? idk lol. anyways i hope u like :D
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there's an ache settling in your right side that wakes you up from your sweet slumber. your head lays atop peter’s soft chest, his steady heartbeat against your ears. it was what lulled you to sleep in the first place. but with peter’s body practically being your own personal heater, the warm air filling the room, and the prominent soreness resting on your side, you began to feel uncomfortable.
“pete,” you whisper.
peter is entirely unfazed. his hold on you is strong. his face is towards you, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest of snores and drool out the corner of his mouth. although you love your cuddles with peter, you think he could actually suffocate you in your sleep. the boy loved to sleep, especially on top of you.
your limbs are tangled together. your left leg slung around his waist, arms around his torso, while his buff arms embrace your shoulders protectively.
ever so slightly, you begin to move your leg, retreating it back to your side as you push against his body and establish a more comfortable position. you snuggle further into peter as sleep wins you over once again.
it only lasts for a second when you wake from your boyfriend’s murmurs, he seems to talk in his sleep when he whispers your name. he huffs loudly and smacks his lips a couple of times with his brows furrowed. you feel his warm hand reach for the back of your knee to bring it over his crotch.
a confused look paints your face as you gaze up toward him. he’s asleep as dead. did he really just do that? you almost laugh out loud. his quirky behavior never fails to amuse you and has your stomach going in flips. he just wants you close to him. :(
but you think you’re funny, so you test out that theory one more time, this time blatantly stripping your leg away from him.
this gets a reaction out of peter. he seems to wake when he gusts an impatient breath, “no” and grabs your knee again, forcefully holding it against him.
in disbelief, you’re unable to contain your burst of laughter as you hold yourself up with one arm and stare at him wide-eyed, “what is wrong with you?”
“ph’shhh” peter knits his brows together, his eyes shut tight with a cute pout, as he blindly brings a hand to your face and gently shoves your head back against your pillow.
“peter-” “shut up.” he feels you lick the palm of his hand, “yuck,” but he doesn’t care to move it away from you. it’s only when you swat his hand away and settle back down against him to give him peace of mind. only for a moment, though. you have fun annoying peter, almost like a hobby. he’s halfway asleep when he feels you aggressively snatch your leg away from his hold.
“y/n!” peter groans, “stop it.” this time, your boyfriend pushes you on top of him, your entire body weight lays over his while he keeps a tight grasp on you, making sure to keep your leg over his waist and your head upon his chest.
his irritation riles you up, and you’re giggling through it all.
peter’s not having it though, not at all. he heaves another deep breath through his mouth, with the same grumpy look on his face, “why are you the way you are?”
you gasp, “me?!” “yes, you.”
not done yet, you flick his forehead, “you know, you’re so annoying sometimes, pete.”
he scoffs, “oh yea?”
“yea. a total pain in the-”
peter shoves his hand against your face and into his chest one last time, “ass.”
you decided you’ve had your fun but you’re too delighted to go back to sleep. too delighted to know that the boy you love and cherish always wants to be impossibly close to you all the time, conscious or not.
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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months
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on a night like tonight
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wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠
prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)
warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption
~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx
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The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.
Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.
You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.
The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.
"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"
Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.
"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."
"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.
Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?
And did he really return them?
You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.
You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.
~∞~
It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.
You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.
You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.
"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.
"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.
"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.
"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.
He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.
"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.
He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.
"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.
"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.
"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"
"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.
"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.
"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.
"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.
You've always been my favourite, darling.
The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.
Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.
~∞~
The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.
"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.
"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.
"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.
"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.
"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.
"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.
"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.
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fuxuannie · 1 year
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* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader
* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.
* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu
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DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.
The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.
"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."
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Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.
You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.
Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.
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BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.
The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.
Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.
She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.
"I love you, Bronya."
"I love you more, (name)."
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Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.
He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.
In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.
During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.
You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.
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HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.
You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."
Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.
She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."
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GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.
When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.
You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.
"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
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SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.
You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.
And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.
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You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.
You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.
"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."
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alilreader · 4 days
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Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Getting Flustered
requests open!!!!!!
“This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” prompt by thepromptswhisper
contains: idk mild smut? they makeout. gets caught. sneaking out. characters are 3rd years, 18yos. probably doesnt follow canon due to me not knowing if theyre still in dorms by 3rd year.
warnings: mild smut, snacks, teasing
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You giggled to yourself, quietly of course, as you snuck through the darkened UA dorms. Excitement filled your veins as you thought about your actions.
"He's gonna love this..." you let your mind wander, as you clutched the handmade treats closer to your chest.
The truth is, you'd had a little something of a crush on a certain blonde for awhile now. He constantly crossed your mind at the most inopportune times.
That's what led you to sneaking around, just to visit his dorm, at 3am.
You'd known he was up, especially as your phone buzzed in your pajamas' pocket. No doubt a message from him. You confirmed this, as you gently removed your phone from it's place in your pocket.
💥Bakugou: Y/N, if you send me one more cat gif im going to blow you up 💥Bakugou: Serves you right going quiet on me 💥Bakugou: Y/N?
As you read the last message, you felt a twang of guilt from leaving him on delivered for so long. In reality, it'd only been about 15 minutes from his first message.
You chuckled lightly, at his clinginess. He would never admit it, but you knew deep down he cared about you to some extent.
Slowly, but surely, you eventually found your place in front of his dorm room. You rapped your fist on the door lightly, careful not to wake his neighbors.
You could hear a muffled groan from the other side, and even the clatter of objects as his footfalls neared the door. Your anxiety spiked for a split second. Had this been a bad time?
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a grumpy looking Bakugou met your gaze. His crimson eyes softened at the sight of you, a slow blush rising to his cheeks.
You couldn't help but admire his build. His muscle glistened with sweat, the small lights littering the dorms basking him with a beautiful grace.
His bicep flexed as he held the door open, the divots catching your attention, as you followed his arm up to his face with your gaze.
"What the hell are you doing out here, dumbass?" the broad shouldered man grumbled, all the while looking mildly pleased to see you.
Your smile brightened, as you held out your goodies, a peace offering.
He scanned the box of treats, before inviting you inside, taking them in his grasp. You excitedly followed behind him, the scent of his room hitting you like a truck.
Due to his quirk, he produces a huge amount of sweat. While this is good for combat, it's rather embarrassing for his ego. For you, however, you just recognized the smell as him.
You scanned his room appreciatively, looking over the decor.
"Bakugou! I didn't know you were a collector!" you gasped, excitedly as you looked over some of his All Might merch. You knew he was a fan, but a nerd? Wow.
Before he could think much about it, munching on his new snacks, he found himself mumbling, "'S Katsuki..."
A bright blush quickly rose to his cheeks, heating him as he realized the weight of his words.
Sure, you two were close, known each other even before UA. But this was a new level of closeness.
Your grin widened at the new bond, "Right, Katsuki," you said, turning around. At the sight of him, blushing furiously, head in his hands, you couldn't help but blush yourself.
As if sensing your amusement, his flustered state turned to one of mild anger. You knew it wasn't directed at you. You couldn't help but laugh as he spat his words.
"This never happened, do you understand?! If I find out you mentioned this to anyone, I’ll…” he trailed off, thinking.
"You'll what, Katsuki?" you teased, almost jumping in place with excitement.
You were met with a growl in return, as he fought not to blow little explosions in your face. He floundered for a response, before settling on one that would fluster you just as much.
"You'll have to kiss me," he smirked, watching your face light up a cherry red.
"Um.. but to do that.. I'd have to actually tell someone... and then.. that must mean, um do you NOT want to kiss me than?" you mumbled, more to yourself thn anything as you stuttered out your response.
He grumbled at your stupidity. Of course, you'd take it literally and not as an invitation.
Without a second thought he was across the room, quickly covering the space between you. With each step he took forward, you took one back. It wasn't long before he had you pressed up against his desk.
His hands found themselves on both sides of your body, trapping you. "I see the way you look at me, always so observant. It's like you like me or something..." he whispered into your ear, sweeping your hair away.
"W-what? That's crazy!! I-I observe everyone! Equally!" he laughed, as you stumbled over your words.
He pressed a small kiss to your earlobe, so softly, you barely registered it. Your face was heated, so warm he could feel it radiating off of you.
To say you were embarrassed was an understatement.
His right hand found your chin, clasping it between his index and his thumb. You found yourself leaning into his grasp, eyes falling shut as you relaxed.
"Your face is a dead giveaway," Bakugou mumbled, with the confidence of a thousand men.
Before you could respond, or even open your eyes, you felt a hot mouth on yours, pressing you further into the desk.
His left hand found your waist, as your hands found his hair, tugging at small strands.
He nibbled your lower lip, wanting to be let in. You obliged, and found his tongue meeting yours.
The hand nestled in his hair soon found his back, as you traced every muscle. You could feel him smirking against your mouth, but all you could think about was how amazing he was at kissing you.
A twinge of jealousy filled you, as you thought about who he had practiced with. This just made you kiss him harder, a wave of possession washing over you.
Your mouths mended together as if they were made for each other. Your tongues, perfectly in sync.
His hand brought your waist closer to his navel, your chests pressed together. A moan was pulled from your throat.
As you were learning each other's bodies, you were broken apart by a knock at the door, followed by a disgruntled voice, "Break it up.. Y/N, come on out."
Your face flushed in embarrassment. "Yes, sir..."
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satoruhour · 8 months
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please do car sex w gojo where after a date reader couldn’t hold back!!
a/n: short one !!!!!sorry sorry just like that week ive got two essays due and im a little panicky! pls bear w/ me as uploads will be slow ty :")
warnings: fem!reader, playful banter (it’s becoming a thing w/ my gojo smuts idk why), handjob, oral (m! receiving), like one (1) spank, fingering, little prep, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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you’re not sure about why gojo looked so damn good today. you could attribute it to the fact that you haven’t seen your boyfriend in at least two weeks or the fact that he’s abandoned his jujutsu uniform for a formal suit. but you’re equally as dressed to the nines as him, visiting a quiet but delicious restaurant on the top floor of a mall.
“any reason why you’re so quiet, sweets?” satoru always could pick up on your silences and your mannerisms; being together all through high-school, at both his and your lowest, through taking care of megumi and tsumiki does that to him. the squeeze of our thigh is a question enough, done more for comforting you, though, and not for the dirty, dirty reasons you’re thinking about.
satoru bathes in the red light of the traffic crossing, and you think he simply looks stunning in the fitted suit and tie, blindfold exchanged for his signature glasses and his blue eyes that are so blue they shine over the stop light.
you bite your lip, turning in your seat slightly and grabbing his hand, heart jumping when it wraps around your smaller one — and he smiles at your reaction.
“nothing.” you hide a grin badly, getting one in return when you reach over his slacks, hand creeping up his thigh and getting closer and closer to his centre. he already knows you need not comfort, but rather something else, letting you give his hardening bulge one last squeeze before red turns green and your pout is the cutest thing ever. “damn.”
gojo steps on the gas and you’re forced to sit properly in the passenger seat, hearing a boisterous laugh from beside you, but he’s not exactly a law-abiding citizen either. he tugs on your hand, placing it on his hard-on and grinds into your hand, pins and needles forming in his hands from how hard he was grabbing onto the steering wheel.
“can’t keep my baby waiting, can i?” it’s said breathlessly, a smirk on his face that switches between its smug look and a face of pleasure. soft whines leave satoru’s mouth as you palm it, eyes fixating on the way the strongest sorcerer melts at your touch.
at the second red light, your hands are already tugging at his zipper, prompting pleas from your boyfriend. he sighs when you‘re fishing out his cock, pretty pink with an angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and when you start stroking — you can thank god that there’s no cars waiting at the traffic light with you.
gojo has a hand under your chin affectionately, eyes boring into yours that are starting to falter under your hand. it strokes his cock, squeezing and releasing, making sure all of his length gets your attention. the pleasured flutter of his eyelashes are the prettiest, a whimper escaping his lips that sends a spark right down to your cunt.
“oh f-fuck— your hands are so w-warm . .” there’s a crack in his voice and he breaks from your eye contact to lean back against the seats. your hands pump him slowly, enjoying the sensual moment until a honk from behind you surprises both of you and gojo screams, hitting his head on the roof of his car.
“ow— fuck!” gojo tsks, ignoring your giggles before he gets back to driving, “the other lanes are unoccupied, idiot!”
gojo, in classic gojo fashion, points his thumb and says can you believe that guy? like a suburban dad, shaking his head and sighing and forgetting his whole dick is out until you’re bending over the stick shift, engulfing his tip in your mouth.
your boyfriend chuckles, a twinkle in his eye as he looks down at you, “impatient little girl, aren’t you?” you only hum, preening at the hand that strokes your hair, aiding you but never really forcing you down as he drives at a leisurely pace. gojo grunts out when you run a tongue up the underside of his cock, other hand playing with his balls. his fingers tense momentarily on your head, before they move down your back, cupping your ass and you moan around his shaft.
“i’m surprised you didn’t drag me into the bathroom to fuck.” he speaks through laboured pants, earning a soft glare from you as you continue to bob your head.
“there was only— mmhff— one stall . .”
“wouldn’t have stopped me.”
you bite down gently on his dick as a warning and he yelps and laughs, surrendering with repeated okay’s. you feel his thigh move below you, speeding up to his penthouse when you’re holding tight onto his legs, steering wheel bumping into your head ever so often.
“o—oh . . baby, baby,” gojo groans out, pulling the car to a harsh stop and yet you’re not stopping, slobbering over his cock while the twist of your back starts to ache. but the sounds your boyfriend makes is just too hot, sucking in your cheeks more and going for the hilt. you bury your face in his pubes, gagging a little at his sheer length.
“shit, shit, shiiit . .” the gurgling sounds resonate throughout the car, interrupted briefly when the hand on your ass slips past the slit of your dress, going right to where your panties should be.
gojo breathlessly laughs, “no panties?” a spank to your ass and you’re wide-mouthed over his slick cock, pussy clenching around nothing.
“dirty whore.”
you click your tongue with a wink, moaning when his fingers tease the tight ring of your entrance and you’re forgetting all about your job when his fingers enter from behind.
“probably don’t even need prep — so fucking wet.”
you hum in response, sitting back up and climbing right into the comfort of his back seat. you’re too far gone to care when you start stripping, pulling the single garment of clothing off your body and gojo gapes at your lack of a bra too.
“was i just too amazed with the food?” he aaks himself more than you, but the endearing question brings a giggle out of you, making you violently gesture for him to just get in the back seat, already.
he follows you, as he would anywhere, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss, “clearly you wanted me to initiate . . i will be a better boyfriend, prommy.”
you pull away to make a face, “satoru, please never say prommy in your life ever again.”
“whhyyyyy?” now he’s just whining to annoy you, pulling him right into your face and spreading your legs. there’s a mixture of playfulness and desperation in your tone, hips humping the air at the lack of contact.
“please just fuck me, satoru.”
gojo gives you a sweet kiss, positioning himself right at your dripping cunt. he’s focused on pushing past your tightness, throbbing tip just nudging into your walls and satoru sighs—
“since my sweet girl’s asked so nicely . . gladly,” the height of the seats are perfect for gojo, bottoming out in you and moaning so loud the next neighbour over could probably hear you, “you’re so— tight, mmfuck—”
gojo finds a pace, head tilted to right where your bodies connect just to watch himself slip in and out of you. you’re entranced, too, just with the beauty of your boyfriend’s face as his brows pull together and his mouth hangs open.
“sa— satoru . . g-god,” you’re dragging him closer into you with your legs, locking behind his back as his hips continue to drive into your tight pussy. you’re so pliant, juices coating his cock so easily that he has no problem thrusting into you. “o—oh, pleaseplease—”
gojo props a leg up, ramming his hips deeper into you and the periodic twitches of his dick makes your pussy flutter, hips stuttering when you call out his name in such a sweet tone it’s got him wondering whether you were an angel instead.
“angel — fuck me — you feel so damn good . .”
“think— it’s the other way ’round,” a chuckle weasels its way out of satoru’s lips at your cheeky comment, bumping foreheads with yours gently as he holds his stare with yours.
“silly g-girl . .” your hands wrap around his neck at that, coaxing him into another deep kiss, moaning into his mouth and the way his body jerks into yours is just so cute. his tie is discarded, your dress is on the floor of the car and his hair is everywhere and you like gojo the best like this: dishevelled and messy, in love with you like always and he would happily be like this all the time if he could.
the sheer pistoning of his hips is so strong that the car is probably shaking, skin against skin and your dripping pussy that wraps around him so good that he can’t hold on any longer, muttering into your lips. his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, sending your body into little shockwaves into his hold.
“princess, i’m gonna—” he groans into your mouth, betrayed by his own body before his hips stammer and he’s cumming deep in you, spilling his seed deep into your waiting cunt and his eyes roll back. he has no chance of recovering when you’re reaching your high soon after, clenching so hard around him that his hips continue to buck into you. your brain is only full of satoru, satoru, satoru, whining into his skin as he fills you up.
“s’full . .” you mumble, pulling away drunkenly, meeting his slightly dull ones from his fatigue. “need more.”
your body moves on autopilot, prompting your lover to lie on his back seat without any protests and he welcomes you like clockwork atop him. and when you sink down, you swear you see another shade of blue pop up in his eyes at the sight. there’s a small sigh from gojo when you reach his pelvis, body illuminated by the street lamps and the moonlight. satoru is always in awe of whatever you do—
“that’s my pretty, pretty girl.”
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in-som-niyah · 2 months
Note
hi!! i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day 😭😭 i was wondering if you could write something about jason x fem!reader getting married? mostly fluff but ill never say no to some good smut
a/n: "i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day" WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNNN STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME HELLO??? like wdym u like my work so much u spend so much time on my blog i love u gimme kiss
anyway this prompt is *chefs kiss* bc we all know Big Bad Jason Todd™ is such a loverboy softie but most of all he loves hard.
I think that before he met you he never thought that he would be so enamoured with someone who also feels the same way about him at the same time, that also wants to marry him??? He thinks he's too flawed and violent and abrasive for someone to even like being around him. So marrying him??? haha you're funny.
But after YEARS (yes, it takes him years of a committed relationship with you to fully trust that you actually like being with him for an extended period of time, let alone forever) of handling his emotions, outbursts and injuries with grace while still giving him a whack at the back of his head when he's being stupid, he considers marrying you.
Remember, Jason Todd is fucking scared himself, and he doesn't want to scare you off with a ring that literally promises forever with him. Though he loves you, he wants you to be happy in the end. Will you be happy with him in the end?
It takes a lot of mental and emotional strength to overcome these fears that swirl around his head.
When he does get over it though, he's so attentive yet sneaky when picking your ring. There's a luxury jewellery store on the way to your favourite clothing store at the mall, and he literally takes you to the whole mall just to pass by the store. He always looks to see what your eyes catch, what you like and don't like. Doesn't matter if he ends up spending hundreds since you're at the mall so much, he'll do it just to make sure he gets exactly what you want.
Jason also uses his extensive detective training to find out what cut and stone you want on the ring. He's ok with diamonds, but would want something more unique and personal for his love. He wants something that always reflects you, no matter the occasion.
Side note: once the ring comes he would definitely put together a photo album of pics he took of the ring in plain sight while you're completely oblivious just for shits and giggles
Finally, when it's time to pop the question, he doesn't do flashy and big productions with lights and letters and petals and stuff.
He would be dancing in the kitchen with you on a lazy Saturday, eating pancakes and bacon and when the song ends just casually asks "if I were to ask you, would you marry me?" Now he looks collected as he lovingly smiles down at you but is actually shitting himself until you say that you would in fact marry him if he asked. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the most perfect, detailed, gorgeous ring you could ever ask for while properly asking you to marry him. Cue the waterworks (from both of you) and the celebratory make-out sesh.
Y'all definitely fucking the night of the proposal though
I feel like it would be realllllly possessive since yk you literally belong to him now
"tell me who this pussy belongs to, pretty girl" Knowing full well you can't answer because your eyes have already rolled back mid-stroke and you're babbling incoherently. It does, however, put a smug ass smirk on his face.
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a/n pt2 bc i can't shut up: i hope u like it!!! i wasn't in the mood to write anything smutty but idk im in my soft era for jason i just want his stoic self to love me :(((((
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seretoningghost · 9 months
Text
Tamaki Amajiki x Male Reader
Warnings : SMUT
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This ones more like a imagine, Idk why, I'm between finishing and editing like a douzen of works very close to postage finality.
That and Im a huge simp for Tamaki and dunno what to write with this prompt in mind... So send in dms or comments if y'all have any ideas.. :)
....  ....  ....
So imagine, being fuck buds with Tamaki.
Like, Tamaki???? Of all people???? Has a fuck buddy????!????
And imagine he gets banged more than any of his sophomore buds 😵😩😎
But no, listen, its not Y/N askin for it - nah nah. Its TAMAKI.
TAMAKI STARTED THE RELATIONSHIP.
OUT OF THE BLUE EVEN-
Tamaki pulled his kohai aside one day, all shy like, and was talking to Y/N out where no one could overhear or see him.
Looking down at the ground because looking at the tall ass held back a grade male would make him pop a boner so hard, and said " y-you w-wanna um... y-you.. w-wanna f-fuck m-me? " a bit rushed.
Y/N just stares, he would have been audibly freaking out if it was anyone else - but its Tamaki. There's no way this is real.
Y/N would have blushed if it was even a slight possibility his crush meant that.
" what? did you get dared? or... hit on the head during training?" Y/N stepped close, Tamaki gulping and face going red - heart pounding in his ears as Y/N's big shoes came into view.
Y/N gently directed Tamaki's face to look up, Tamaki just blushed harder - horny circuits heating up so much they were fusing.
Y/N simply looked over Tamaki's face - checking his eyes for odd dilation, meanwhile Tamaki could hardly keep himself from falling apart.
He just asked his crush to fuck, and he didn't even ask " is this a prank? ".
" well.... I didn't see you get hurt during training... " Y/N tried to pry for a answer.
" I... I'm b-being s-serious! " Tamaki tried to firmly say - failing miserably..
Y/N's eyes went wide, still unsure, but still taken back by it.
" ..... you sure?... "
Tamaki nodded, fidgeting his leg - the warmth of horny overtaking him.
So here it was..
Tamaki months later. Still getting his ass pounded.
Laying belly down on his bed - shirt slightly unbuttoned, and meerly slid up a bit.
Tie undone, pants and boxers hanging around his left ankle.
Body covered in thin sweat.
Legs spread open - quietly moaning and gasping as Y/N's cock penetrated him deeply and stimulated his hidden pleasure centers.
Whimpering at the fabrics rubbing against his nipples and lewdly wet bellend and shaft.
Spit dribbling down his chin as his back arches - letting out a pathetic louder moan as he clutches his pillow tighter.
Moaning lovingly as he shoves his face back into his pillow.
Tamaki never fucks without a pillow in immediate face covering range.
Then there's Y/N - groaning and moaning - body dripping with sweat, giving Tamaki everything he's got.
Doing everything to Tamaki's liking - aiming for deep sweet spots, thrusting as hard as he can, going as deep as he can, slowing his thrusts occasionally because he's found out Tamaki enjoys it.
But Y/N is doing everything in his power to make his upper classmen happy - and blissed out of his mind.
Not knowing Tamaki was going sex crazy over it - falling deeper and deeper in love with Y/N.
It was like Y/N was hynotizing Tamaki with that huge cock.
But what really turned Tamaki on - was Y/N himself, his hips hitting Tamaki's ass, Y/N loosing balance occasionally...
And having to slide his hands slightly, or grip tighter on Tamaki's hip.
Letting out a excited and shocked girly moan, body tensing at each touch.
He really liked when Y/N got close - because Y/N would shift his hand on Tamaki's hip a lot.
Y/N would get more vocal - swear more, which always sounded so hot.
Having Y/N's big body looming over him, Y/N's thrusts getting a bit sloppy - yet firmer, his large warm hand gripping tighter on Tamaki's small hip - his hot breath fanning on Tamaki's back, neck and hair.
" FUCK..! " Y/N huffed between thrusts, more like a quiet grunt.
It was so hot.
Y/Ns other hand would occasionally shift on the bed, ruffling the sheets, fingers grazing Tamaki's belly.
Tamaki would get close too, body quaking, if getting plowed didn't get his close - Y/N being sexy would.
Then Y/N would crane over, chest almost rubbing against Tamaki, despite the super hot air Tamaki could still feel Y/N's radiating heat.
He almost wanted to beg for Y/N to put his body weight on him and squish him.
But by now Y/N would be groaning and swearing right in Tamaki's ear, Tamaki would be girlishly moaning into his pillow - hoping Y/N didnt notice.
" ah~.. ah~ ah~! "
Which Y/N did, with how much repetitive quick moaning - even the slap of Tamaki's ass with each thrust could distract him.
Tamaki would be rocking back and forth roughly with each thrust, enjoying feeling so small.
Then Y/N and him would cum, the condom Y/N used getting filled.
Tamaki would make a quiet " mmNnhhh- " noise as he shuddered, quietly cumming his sheets.
Soon after a little pant time, Y/N would pull out - looking Tamaki's sexy body over as he marveled in the after glow of Tamaki's sexy body..
His chest raising and lowering with soft pants as he laid there, still holding his pillow.
Y/N always wanted to go again, but felt that since Tamaki never asked for it - he didn't want it.
But Tamaki always kinda fantasized of hearing a second condom rip open while he rested.
Y/N would take off the condom, tie it up - toss it away, clean himself up - and... Well...
Always want to help clean Tamaki up... But...
Y/N tried once - had a warm wash cloth, tried to rub down Tamaki's back - Tamaki jumped, looking over his shoulder bright red.
" w-what are you d-doing..? "
Y/N explained, suddenly blushing too, frozen - and a bit scared by the sudden reaction.
Tamaki gave a small " oh... " and just looked away and didn't move.
Y/N - not wanting to step his boundries again took that as a stop.
And asked if Tamaki would like him to draw a bath.
Tamaki said no - hoping instead that Y/N would continue to clean his body.
Y/N didn't, and Tamaki saw why not - he was holding back and being wary of him.
Seems Tamaki started Y/N.
Tamaki was upset about it, but was too shy to mention anything.
So Y/N never tried again.
After cleaning himself up Y/N would leave, saying goodbye.
Now how did the two even decide when to fuck?
Tamaki would walk over, tug on Y/N's hand and simply utter " u-um... ", and Y/N would follow Tamaki to the dorms.
But imagine the first time Tamaki asked to fuck again?
Y/N thought the very first time was just a one night stand.
So when Tamaki walked up to him 4 days later - tugged on his and and stuttered.
Y/N turned and stared intently, wondering what Tamaki had to say.
It took a while of Tamaki stuttering and vaguely insinuating for Y/N to get the idea.
Y/N was almost instantly erect.
Other than approuching Y/N, Tamaki would occasionally text to meet up in one of their rooms.
Tamaki usually did this late at night when the dreadful horny struck.
Usually asking if he could sneak over to Y/Ns room.
Since Y/N agreed that he didn't care if anyone knew Y/N was fucking, but they usually fucked when no one else was in the dorm.
Tamaki would sneak over to Y/Ns room - more like just slowly walk over to Y/N's room, if anyone saw him they usually just assumed late night snack or a walk.
But little did they know that was the excited fluttery hearted walk of a man about to get his ass pounded.
Did Y/N's next door dorm-mates notice?
Occasionally they noticed Y/N fucking.
But not often, they assumed he got his cock wet occasionally, but not nearly as much as he actually did.
They were only up occasionally, that or they slept with headphones on.
It was a highschool dorm, someone was usually fucking or masturbating.
No one would have guess it was Tamaki though. Not only cause of the girly moans, just all around Tamaki's mannerism.
Ooh~! What if Tamaki was dragged into a truth or dare with class 1-A!
" c'moooon~! you only have to play threeeeeeeee rounds! " one of them would convince.
So here Tamaki was forced.
And Tamaki is a coward - and well " how bad could their truths really be anyway- "
" soooo... are you a virgin Tamaki? " Mina would ask.
Tamaki went beet red, wanting to lie and chock the blushing up to it being a embarrassing question.
" no. " he would blurt, turning even more red, it was hard to say yes when all he could remember was Y/N fucking him..
" shit... " Tamaki was done for.
He wanted to die. Right then... Right there.
He knew that everyone would take the chance to ridicule him, and bully him into spilling all the details.
Everyone seemed surprised and intrigued.
He tried to insist his 3 rounds were up before someone finally got to him, but everyone kept saying " three rounds of questions directed at you ".
Tamaki tried to refuse, and tried to just walk away - but Mina grabbed his leg and held him back.
Tamaki didn't even look back as he stood still in defeat, staring at the ground.
" ...... let me go....... " he whispered quietly.
" only if you answer one more truth! " she bargained - more like terrorist.
" ...... fine......" he had no other choice.
" who-"
" No. "
Mina had to think up a good one now, when was his last time? (Last night) Where? (Y/Ns room) Ah ha!
" how many times have you done it total? " of course she picked practically the second most personal question..
(Last time done it being the first)
Tamaki paused, actually sweating as he tried to wrack his brain for a answer.
He could just lie - but again Y/N fucked the smarts out of him, and thinking of him had the same effect.
" um.... a-actually.. I-I... I don't I-know...? " Tamaki mumbled.
Everyone's jaws dropped, they were expecting a 1.... Maybe 4.... Max 8?
Nope. Tamaki couldn't. Even. Fathom.
....
Tamaki lifted his leg out of the slack gripped Mina quickly, and sped walk away.
Eventually Y/N and Tamaki would confess their feelings... And begin a relationship - and finally come out a month after starting their official boyfriends relationship.
And Class 1-A would just stare slack jawed..
Neither of them knew why.... Until... Tamaki remembered...
He became insanely red, and said he was gonna get a snack.
So Y/N was left to hang out with his friends.
After a bit they suddenly asked " so... your who fucked Tamaki so many times he couldn't even count them? ".
.... Oh ....
.... .... ....
So Idk, I didn't know what to do at the end.... Like I always do....
But I really liked the scenario - and for a thirst its decent. B]
I have another fic you guys'll get tommorrow, for now have this.
Idk if I'll ever write this out fully? Maybe if someone suggests something good for it? Idk.
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Text
Teach Me // Ethan Landry*
request: Fem!reader guiding inexperienced!ethan on how to make her feel good in bed
prompts: none!
summary: ethan and you haven’t ever gone farther than kissing before. when he tells you that he’s finally ready, you’re shocked that the only thing he wants to do it learn how to make you feel good.
warnings: smut, language, cunnilingus, fingering, virgin!ethan, slight dom/sub undertones
word count: 1.2k
a/n: fem!reader, no ghostface au, i feel like this is a little awkward but im also very over critical about my writing so idk
join my taglist!
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“You sure you’re ready? You seem a bit nervous, and I don’t wanna push you into anything that you don’t wanna do,” you said, your eyes looking down into Ethan’s as you sat upon his lap.
Ethan nodded, smiling nervously up at you. “Yeah, I- I’m ready. I want to do this, believe me. It’s just…” Ethan trailed off, his face flushing red.
“It’s just what?” you asked, gently prompting Ethan to finish his sentence.
“I’ve never done anything like this before. Like at all.”
His face was red with embarrassment, and he stared at the sheets underneath him, too ashamed to meet your eyes. You just smiled sweetly and gently tilted his head up before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, which only made Ethan blush harder.
“I know, baby. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ethan’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as your words. “You- you knew? H-how did you know?”
“Well you’ve said that this was your first relationship and that I was your first kiss, so I just kinda assumed. But really, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, everyone was a virgin at some point.”
Ethan nodded, his nerves starting to subside at your kind words. No matter how anxious or freaked out he was, you could always manage to help him calm down. Make him feel better. And right now was no different. Just your presence alone was calming, and being with you made him feel safe.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Ethan smiled softly, leaning into your touch when you placed your hand on his cheek.
“So, you’re okay? We can continue?” you asked, a teasing smile growing on your face as you leaned in closer to him.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Keep going,” Ethan said, his breath hitching as you trailed your hands down his chest.
You reached down, your fingers grasping his belt as you started to pull it off. Ethan’s eyes followed your every movement, not wanting to miss a second. When you reached forward to unzip his pants, Ethan’s hand reached out to stop you.
“Wait!”
You pulled away, looking up at him with eyes full of concern. “Is something wrong? We can stop if you want to.”
Ethan shook his head. “No! No, it’s not that. I just- I was wondering if I could make you feel good first?”
Your eyes widened in surprise. Most guys you’ve been with in the past only cared about their own pleasure, wanting you to make them feel good without giving a shit about your own pleasure. But here was Ethan, who’d never even been touched by someone before, seeming so desperate to make you feel good before even starting with him. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”
Ethan nodded, an eager smile on his face, “More than anything.”
You got off of Ethan’s lap, leaning back against the pillows beside him on your bed. Ethan moved to kneel in between your legs, and you slipped off your shirt before relaxing into the mattress. Ethan’s hands hovered above your hips, his fingers twitching impatiently.
“You can touch me, baby. Don’t be shy.”
At your words, Ethan reached forward and slid your pajama shorts down, looking up at you for confirmation that this was what you wanted. You nodded, smiling down at him and running your fingers through his hair. Ethan shuddered at the feeling, practically melting beneath your touch. He brought his hands back up to your hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulling them off your body.
You shivered at the sudden cold air against your dripping core. Ethan’s eyes widened as his gaze was fixated on your pussy. He felt his cock twitch just from looking at you.
“How do I- what am I supposed to do?” Ethan asked, looking back up at you.
“Well, do you want to use your fingers or your mouth?”
You could practically see the way Ethan’s eyes lit up at the mention of using his mouth on you. He looked dazed, his eyes glossed over, as he lowered himself down to lay on his stomach, his mouth directly in front of your soaking pussy.
You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his hair. “Well, I guess that answers that, huh?”
“What do I- how do I do it?” Ethan asked, his eyes trained on you, with a sense of desperation in them that made your arousal grow even more.
“How about you just try it, and then I’ll help you if you do anything wrong? Okay?”
Ethan nodded eagerly, his hands pressing against your inner thighs to keep your legs parted as he leaned in closer. He hesitantly licked a stripe through your folds, your breath hitched at the feeling. Almost instantly, Ethan managed to get find your clit, his lips wrapped around it as he sucked on it gently, causing your grip in his hair to tighten as you let out a soft moan.
“You- you looked up how to do this, didn’t you?” you asked, trying to tease him with your words, but your breathlessness from his movements made the sarcastic bite die on your tongue.
“Maybe a little… I just wanted to be good for you,” Ethan said, before diving back in between your thighs.
“Oh, fuck!” you moaned out, your back arching as Ethan slid two fingers inside of your dripping hole. “Always- fuck! Always so good for me, baby.”
Ethan continued to lap at your clit while his fingers searched for that spot that makes you see stars. Your thighs clenched around his head as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers continually prodding your g-spot as he started sucking on your clit once more.
“Holy- fuck! I- I’m gonna cum! Fuck, don’t stop baby! I- I’m gonna-,” your words were cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips as your high crashed over you.
Your thighs quivered and your hand loosened its grip in Ethan’s hair as you sunk deeper into your mattress, pleasure and euphoria filling your being. Ethan didn’t stop his movements, his tongue continuing to lap at your cunt, wanting to savor every last drop of your release.
“Ethan… E, please,” you whimpered, gently trying to pull him away, the overstimulation starting to get to you.
Reluctantly, Ethan sat up again, his chin dripping in a mixture of your juices and his saliva. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and smiled at you sheepishly.
“Sorry. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly with nerves.
You shook your head and smiled sweetly. “No. No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just too much.”
He smiled widely, leaning forward to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, which made your stomach tingle and you felt yourself starting to grow aroused again.
“So I did good, then?” Ethan asked after pulling away.
“You did amazing, baby. You sure this was your first time?”
Ethan laughed softly at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
“Well then. Guess you didn’t need me to teach you as much as you thought you would.”
He smiled awkwardly, your words flustering him. “M-maybe a few more lessons wouldn’t hurt.”
tags: @nowitsmissing @hyeyulove @abbyluvsjackchampion @mariaflor873
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envy-of-the-apple · 7 days
Note
ok i like the idea of reader going to shoko thinking she’s normal physician (not knowing she only works for sorcerers) and asks for a checkup. one thing leads to another and reader has to continue meeting her for ‘check-up’s’ frequently…..
how does it feel to be the smartest person in the room bestie????
@mynahx3 hiiiiiiiiii<3
Trust the Professionals
Dark!Ieiri Shoko x reader
Synopsis: Doctor Ieiri has a new treatment she’s eager to try on you
Word count: 2.2k
(Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, manipulation, vaginal fingering, dark content, mc's kinda dumb, self-gaslighting lmaooo, hospital kink? im pretty sure this is some type of kink but idk whats its called)
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For the longest time, you never really believed in ghosts.
You weren't really the religious type. You went to church every so often, but you weren't invested. It's why it took you a while to get around to the idea that spirits were real, and one was particularly attached to you.
Luckily, the Shamans always seemed happy to help.
"It's back again, huh?" Doctor Ieiri asked.
You nodded, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. She doesn't look like a Shaman. You were expecting more bells and bracelets. Traditional clothing. Doctor Ieiri was always dressed in a labcoat, professional makeup that did little to cover lack of sleep. She looks like she just fell out of a hospital drama.
Despite her looks, you knew she was pretty good at her job. She was the only person who'd gotten rid of your spirit problem. At least, for a little while.
You don't know what she meant exactly, but the spirit ("Cursed spirit," she corrected one too many times) was a replicator. It needed to be exorcised multiple times to fully disappear. This has been your third visit so far.
You watched as her eyes followed something right above your head. She hummed, leaning forward on the desk, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers.
"That's strange," she murmurs, "usually, by the third, it's gone."
You wilt at that. A part of you feels guilty for taking so much of the Doctor's time. All of the appointments so far had been free, but you wouldn't blame her if she started asking for payment, or if she turned you away completely.
She straightens her back.
"Clearly, regular exorcisms aren't working." She states the obvious. "So far, they've just been a temporary fix. There's one more thing we could try but..."
For the first time since you've seen her, Doctor Ieiri hesitates. You look at her.
"Not many prefer this procedure." She explains. "It's a little...unorthodox."
Her reluctance should give you a warning, but you've already spent days putting off this appointment, willing for your cursed problem to go away, spending hours tossing and turning in bed, feeling something crawling up your back with too many legs and too many teeth.
"Anything." You say. "Anything to make this go away."
There's a glint in her eye. Something not quite a smile tugs on her face before it's gone. She stands up, prompting you to do the same. In her hands is a neatly folded hospital gown.
"You can put your clothes over there." She mentions to a chair. "Including your undergarments, please."
She must notice your discomfort because her tone becomes less clinical.
"We can stop whenever you want." She tells you. "But stopping in the middle is typically discouraged. Curses are pretty fickle."
You nod. "Okay, Doctor."
"Please, just call me Shoko." She gives a tired smile. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible for this."
You don't feel comfortable calling her by her given name, but Ieir-Shoko looks so pleased when you let her name reluctantly leave your lips, and you feel too bad to retort.
She steps out of the room shortly after handing you the gown. You put your clothes on the chair, she pointed out. When Shoko knocks, you're already seated on the examination table, swathed in the the thin fabric.
"You follow directions well." She's wearing a surgical mask now but looks satisfied with your compliance. You give a shy smile.
"Let's start with a general overlook for now." She says. "It'd be helpful if we can pinpoint where the curse originated."
You nod, but you can't push away the nervousness as Shoko gently pushes past the fabric. She's wearing gloves, but the rubber is a flimsy barrier to her warm fingers. Her hands brush past your clavicle, and the plastic gown easily yields for her touch. You gasp when she touches your tits, fingers lightly brushing over the nipple. The room is so cold. You're so sensitive. You stiffen against her touch.
She notices, pulling back to see your face. "Something wrong?"
"Uh, no." You smile, but it feels watery. "Just nerves." You can't read her expression. The mask hides everything.
She hums, and you're grateful she doesn't comment on how jittery you are. You hold in your reaction when she lightly presses on your breast. Her thumb flicks over your nipple again. You'd call it sensual if you weren't thoroughly convinced that Shoko was a professional and you were the weird one here.
She pulls away eventually, and you sag in relief. It was over. You don't think you could do that again.
"It's not coming from your upper body." Shoko murmurs. "Would you mind if I untied your gown? It'll be better if I can see everything."
You hesitate, unsure, but Shoko's previous words make your rejection waver. Curses are fickle creatures. In the end, you let her unwrap the gown.
There's no real point to it now. You're fully displayed on the examination table, legs spread, leaning back on your hands. It's embarrassing. You can feel yourself heat up at how exposed you are, especially considering Shoko is still wearing her lab coat and that mask.
But Shoko says nothing about it. Right, she's a professional. Instead, she starts pulling off her gloves.
"I'll be able to locate the cursed location more effectively without a barrier." She explains and you nod along.
She starts with your foot, gently squeezing your foot. It feels nice, like a massage. You languish in the touch, only getting concerned when her prodding starts going up her calf.
Shoko rubs circles along your inner calf. Something wells within you, but you're pushing it down because Shoko is a professional. Instead, you lift yourself off the table just to feel more in control.
"Not here either," Shoko murmurs to herself. "Maybe I need to go a little deeper."
Your eyes widen when she rests a single finger at the entrance of your pussy.
"Doctor, I—I don't think that's—" with one motion, she buries her finger inside you.
You're already shamefully wet. Your walls are already clenching down her nimble finger. You can't help it, you shudder, giving out a breathy whine.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" For some reason, you can hear a smile in Shoko's voice as she starts pumping her finger in and out of your sopping pussy. "You can talk. I'm great at multitasking."
"I—I was just saying—saying Doctor, you—" Her finger curls, and you are interrupted by another moan.
"Shoko." She reminds you her voice firm and calm and a total juxtaposition to the way her thumb is circling over your sensitive clit. "I want you to stay calm and relaxed throughout this procedure, okay?"
"Shoko." You keen and you're sure her breath hitches but your brain is numb and she's still wearing that mask. "This—This just feels a—a bit strange and I—"
She coos in sympathy. "It's all part of the process. Just relax, okay? You're doing so well for me."
At this point, you're leaning back on your elbows. The new angle jolts pleasure up and down your spine. It gets even worse when Shoko adds a second finger, stretching your sensitive walls out even further.
"I think the curse is getting closer. We're almost there." Her voice is soft and breathy in your ear and you can hardly understand that she's taken off her mask. "Just a little more. Just a bit further. So so good for me. You're doing so well, baby."
Your orgasm hits you like a train. All at once, you seize up on her fingers, your thighs squeezing together and your moan resembles more of a scream than anything human. Shoko keeps going as the orgasm smashes your broken body like grass.
She stops when you give one last shudder before collapsing onto the examination table. You lie there, breasts heaving, eyes glazed. You're so far out of it that you don't even notice the way she licks her wet fingers.
It takes a few seconds for you to gather your bearings. When you do, you're mortified. You shoot up from the table, covering yourself up with the flimsy gown, ready to apologize when Shoko asks:
"How do you feel?"
It's such an innocent question. It takes you off-guard. Sensitive, is your first answer, but then you think some more and you realize that you can't really feel the dread or the weight on your shoulders anymore.
"You...exorcised it?" No, this felt different from the last two exorcisms she performed on you. Now, you feel five years younger.
She grins, pleased.
"Yes. I found the origin point." She explains. "Even if it ever comes back, it'll be smaller and easier to deal with."
You nod, still recovering from your high as you roll your shoulder. Everything feels so good.
"Wow," you say, "I—thank you! Thank you so much!"
She pulls back, accepting your gratitude with a soft expression.
"We're done for today." She tells you at last. "You're free to put on your clothes. Can't imagine that gown is very comfortable."
You wait for her to leave. She doesn't, sitting back behind her desk, typing away at her computer. There's no real point of you having privacy, is there? After all, you basically just showed her everything.
Still, when you go to put on your clothes, you can feel eyes on you, trailing down your body, your ass. It isn't Shoko. She's always busy with her keyboard, diligent as always. You were feeling things.
One garment was missing, however. As discreetly as you could, you searched around for it, glancing at the floor, underneath the chair. You swore you left it with the other clothes. How could it just disappear?
"Something wrong?"
Shoko's peering up at you, head tilted. You open your mouth. But then you decide they aren't worth the further embarrassment.
"Nothing." You give a nervous grin. "Just nothing."
Shoko can still taste you when Satoru visits her hours after your appointment.
"Get out," she says. Satoru just grins, shutting the door behind him. It was worth a shot.
"I see your favorite little patient had another check-up," he says, "still haven't disclosed we aren't exactly in the personal exorcism business, have ya'?"
Shoko shrugs. "It's a personal project. Don't worry about it."
"Right, you say that buuuuut 'can't help but notice that our lovely non-sorcerer still has a curse swimming around—"Satoru clicks his tongue. "—It's fourth grade, too. This deskwork is making you go soft, Shoko. Maybe I should start dragging you out to missions."
"Did you exorcise it?" Ugh, that would be a pain. Shoko spent so long cultivating that curse to work in her favor.
Gojo grins. "Nah."
"A residual curse." Satoru continues. "Harmless, but pesky enough to be noticed if it isn't dealt with in a couple days. Smart."
By Saturday, to be more exact. Shoko has already cleared her schedule. She can already hear your voice crackling through the phone, sweetly apologizing for such short notice, but would it be possible to book an appointment? She won't tell you that, nor will she tell Satoru. Though, she has a feeling the bastard already knows.
Said bastard is rifling through her drawers. She frowns when he pulls out your panties.
"Aw, these are so cute!" Satoru gushes, shamefully twirling the fabric on his finger. "Are you starting a collection? This some kind of trophy? Hey, I don't judge."
"It's wrong to take things without permission," Shoko says.
"I should be telling you that." Satoru grins. "Y'know, our precious non-sorcerer is kinda' cute. Maybe I should pay a visit—"
Shoko bolts up from her chair. She stares at him. Gojo stops playing with the frills. He's still smiling.
"Easy, easy." He says, but he hands her the fabric anyway. "Damn, I had a feeling, but you're whipped for this one, are n'tcha? Do I hear wedding bells?"
She rolls her eyes. "Get out."
He obliges with a snicker, proving that he only came to mess with her. What did she expect? With a sigh, she collapses back onto her seat.
She dangles your panties in one hand. She refuses to sniff them again, even though your taste and your smell are still swirling around in her head. They must have looked so cute on you. Next time, she'll put cameras in the room, just so she can have a playback of you shyly shucking off your clothes before compliantly slipping on the gown. She wouldn't know what would be more tantalizing to watch; the show or your utter obedience.
Satoru was, unfortunately, right. Shoko was crazy for you, even though you clearly didn't carry the same feelings. That's okay. In this line of work, Shoko knows she has to take what she wants, that letting her desires go is for those like Satoru.
So Shoko will lie and coax and manipulate until you're seated pliantly in her grasp. And maybe if Satoru behaves, he'll get a wedding invite.
And if you still don't yield...well, there's always plan B.
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maplesyrupsainz · 2 months
Note
7 with mark webber BUT he's been in that r.s for a long time and realises its toxic and he's being groomed, so he finally leaves her for reader (yes im referring to his wife)
pairing: mark webber x fem y/n reader (she/her)
genre: blurb
warnings: mentions of drinking
prompt: seven you're in love with [driver] and they get a girlfriend
a/n: lowkey idk what im doing here i hope so much it isnt trash lol
my masterlist | 1k celebration
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you’ve been in love with mark for as long as you could remember – you tried to deny it for the longest time, but it was no good. the feelings were there and would just not go away.
so, when his call at 3:37am wakes you up, of course you answer. and when he asks you to come pick him up, of course you do. the way you rationalise this: he would do the same for me. but really you’re not so sure.
the address you’re given is a night club, and as you pull up you spot him almost immediately, slumped against a wall. drunk.
“m’sorry, y/n/n.. i don’t usually get like this..” he slurs a bit, but to be honest you’ve seen him worse.
“don’t worry about it, mark, this is nothing.” you smile to yourself as you drive, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of a song playing softly from the radio.
“i love you, you know?” he says, and you see him looking over at you in the corner of your eye. you don’t return his gaze.
“i know you do, me too.” you smile painfully, a sick feeling present in your tummy. “we’ve been friends for the longest time, so you have no choice.”
you see him shrug, “yea, i suppose.” he lays his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, and you feel relieved for the silence.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
it’s closer to 5am by the time you’re both inside your apartment, but mark doesn’t seem to care. he points and giggles at the pink crocs you’re wearing, before raiding your cupboards and forcing you to watch a movie with him on the couch.
you glance over at him for a second, realising he's been staring at you. “what is it? is there something on my face?”
“no, i just…” he trails off, “i feel like i’ve wasted so much time not being with the right girl.”
you stare at him, “is everything okay? like, at home?” he shrugs in reply, looking away from you and you mentally curse yourself for saying the wrong thing. mark has a wife, a woman you never hoped he’d marry. “it’s not to late to change your life, you know?”
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
eight days have passed in a blur since that night (or, y’know, morning). mark hasn’t answered your calls, you think maybe it’s a good thing, maybe you need to go cold turkey to get over him. you’ve turned off your phone; it feels unhealthy to check it every five seconds.
it’s on this eighth day, however, that mark is on your doorstep. literally.
you’re arriving home from the gym when you spot him, stood leaning against your front door. “urm, mark?” you call out tentatively, unsure of the situation.
“y/n, i’m so sorry for not picking up the phone, i-”
“mark,” you cut him off, brushing past him to unlock your door, “we can talk inside.” and you do. and your whole world changes.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“…it’s just, this whole time i’ve had it wrong, i don’t know, maybe i’m crazy.” you’re sat on the coach, watching him pace in front of you, explaining his inner conflict, and you feel sick but at the same time, you feel relieved.
“hey, it’s ok,” you stand up and grab his wrist to stop him from pacing, “you’ll get through this. and the person you’re talking about, the person you think has been right for you all along, just talk to her.”
“i am!” he says, turning to face you abruptly.
“what–” your question is cut off by mark pulling you close and his lips finding yours in impossible fluidity. you are left almost reeling, head spinning, unable to think straight… what just happened?
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Note
i would just like to thank you for your service of providing us with pjo/hoo fics daily. i’m pretty sure i’ve read every single jason fic (he’s so underrated and no one really writes for him) put there and im so happy to be able to read new ones. i also love reading your percy and leo fics. percy and leo were my first loves but jason has my heart now that im older.
would you consider doing something with jason x hades reader. where reader feels ostracized at both camps and with her family bc she just has creepy vibes seems mean but she’s really just shy and insecure because people treat her badly and leave her out of everything (including her siblings) and he notices and tries to get closer to her to make her feel more welcome. and ends up getting the hots for her.
also would you consider ever doing a jason or percy smut down the road? i loved the leo smut you just posted. i don’t have any prompts.
thank you in advance!! have a great day :)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of hades! reader hcs
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content: jason grace x daughter of hades! reader hcs warning: language author's note: i used the word 'stupid' so many times im not even sure if im spelling it correctly anymore- THIS ONE WAS FUN BLOW THIS ONE UP YALL I BEG also, id be willing to do some small smut in the future but i think the ideas have to be my own bc i get a little uncomfy when its requested, ya know??? but idk, that's subject to change
you tried to connect with people, truly you did
you were funny and kind and confident and had the natural ability of just the right amount of sass at all times
but, simply because you were a daughter of hades, people tended to steer clear
even in camp jupiter, which you snuck into with nico to see your sister, hazel
and your siblings tried their best, but they each had their own friends and boyfriends
so, you refused to let them see they got to you
you developed thick skin, beginning to push people away before they could do it to you
until the stupid son of jupiter showed up, just wrecking through all your walls
you had been training by yourself, no one interested in a fight with the daughter of hades, when he popped into the arena, that stupidly bright smile on his stupidly perfect lips
"hey! y/n, right?"
"yup," you replied, dryly and halfheartedly swinging at the dummy
"cool...wanna spar?" he offered, his stupid smile somehow getting brighter
"pass, sparky," you huffed, instantly putting the sword away and going to leave the arena but he caught your arm, causing you to look up at his stupidly handsome face while he looked down at you
"okay, do you want go visit the naiads then?"
"no?" you replied, with a raised brow and frown
"hmmm. okay, how about the strawberry field?"
"...did nico put you up to this?" you asked, dryly
you'd yet to tug your arm free, you realized
you also didn't want to, which was the second thing you realized
"nope. free will is a beautiful thing, huh?" jason joked, his scar twitching with his smile.
"hazel?" you offered and jason laughed, shaking his head
he readjusted his hold on your arm so that now, your guys arms were linked together and he started walking (really, dragging you)
"still no. is it that hard to believe that i just want to hang out with you?" he questioned, his smile slipping slightly as you darted your eyes away
"yes," you bit out, ripping your arm loose before stomping away from the stupid, stupid, son of jupiter
you figured that would be the end of his endeavors
that you finally scared him off like everyone else
but no
he was insistent and persistent
...but he was growing on you
like mold, is what you told yourself to make it feel better
where ever you went, he seemed to follow like a bright shadow
though, there was one place you got some small reprieve from the stupidly smiley boy
(though, as time went on, you started wanting him around too)
your father's place, which you visited whenever nico did
and, ever the intuitive one, he could tell something was off with you
while nico doted on and climbed your step-mother's pomegranate trees, you were half-heartedly sipping at your pomegranate lemonade, curled up in some iron garden chair
"is something wrong, principessa?" hades asked, "you've barely drank any and i know it's your favorite."
"wh-what?? no, no, i'm- i'm okay, dad. no, no, i'm great, yeah," you sputtered out, rapidly taking a large drink to prove a point
"she has a crush!" nico called as he hung from the pomegranate tree, smirking upside down at the girl
you jumped up, grabbing a nearby skull and hurling it at the boy, which send him slamming into the ground with calls of indignation
"that's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear daughter! do tell, you know i love to know everything," your father laughed, leaning forwards and resting his head against his hands in intrigue
"you're not gonna like it," you murmured, shrinking in on yourself
"as long as it's not zeus' blasted blonde boy, i'm sure-..." hades halted as saw the way you shrunk in even more at his words before sighing
"great. more blondes," he huffed and nico and you shared a look, before erupting into laughter
with your father's (sort of) permission, you came back to camp with a new determination
jason found you easily, jumping up from his seat and rapidly approaching you, asking about your visit with your father
"dandy as always," you mused with a soft smile, causing jason to beam down at you
"you're in a good mood," he pointed out, gently
"well, you've got that effect on me, i guess," you flirted, looking up at him through your lashes and tilting your head slightly
jason flushed, instantly, coughing slightly
"wh-what? y/n-"
"let's go to the woods, jase. c'mon," you quickly redirected, grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the forest
you were giving jason whiplash and he couldn't find it in him to want you to stop
you dragged him behind you, slowing to a stop as you glanced around, ensuring no peeping toms before turning back to jason, who was looking only at you
something he did often whenever you were around, like his eyes were unable to pull from you
"you've ruined my life, you know," you started, shoving a finger into his chest.
jason laughed, tilting his head at you in question as he could tell you were joking from the twitch of your face
"deepest apologies," jason replied, "how, exactly, have i ruined your life?"
"by being so stupidly you, jason grace. your stupid smile, your stupid jokes, your stupidly handsome face, your stupid lips-"
before you could get another word out, the boy was kissing you
and you were kissing him
and it was stupid, all the time you wasted not kissing his stupid lips with your stupid lips
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httpiastri · 6 months
Note
Omgg hiii againnn 🫶🏻 paul obsessed girlie here!! (Ur prompt list was so good btw) I think my favs were probably hands under their clothes, or from the dialogue, "god, you're shivering. take my jacket." Or "you don't have to be so genle. i won't break, you know." But honestly I’d be happy with any, all or none of them ur writing is so damn good 🩷🩷🩷
bestieeee aren't we all paul obsessed 🤭🤭 at least i know i am!! thank you for your request sweetheart, im in such a paul mood these days that idk what to do. hope u enjoy this, have a great day (and happy holidays!!) <3<3
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‎‎ ‎‎
paul's hand is soft in yours. the way his thumb brushes along your knuckles makes you smile subconsciously, leaning into him as you walk down the street.
there's a post-dinner-date type of lull hanging over the two of you, a comfortable silence that you really don't mind; you know that paul isn't the most talkative person, so just his presence is more than enough for you. that's why when he finally speaks up, you instantly look up to him. "hey, you-"
your eyes grow worried when he stops right in the middle of the street. you're just about to ask what's wrong when both of his hands cover one of yours, his eyebrows knitted together.
"god, you're shivering."
you hadn't even noticed it yourself, but paul is as attentive as always. you did forget to bring a jacket when you left earlier today, so the cold gusts of wind blow right through the thin material of your outfit. now that he has mentioned it, you suddenly become aware of the goosebumps on your skin and the way you're trembling slightly.
"here," paul starts, shrugging off his suit jacket in one quick motion. "take this."
"are you sure?" you ask, blinking up at him as he stands in front of you, draping the material over your shoulders. "you shouldn't get sick, you have that thing later this week and-"
"i'm sure." his tone is firm but not harsh, the little smile he gives you right after telling you that he doesn't mean any harm; he just wants to take care of you.
"thank you." your cheeks start to redden – you're sure you could blame the cold if he asked, even though it's not the actual reason – and you take his arm in your hands as you continue to stroll. your shivers may have stopped, but the butterflies in your gut still make you a little shakey. it doesn't take long before you reach his car, but instead of opening the door for you like he usually does, paul's hands land on your hips outside of the jacket. he turns you towards him, your hands finding the side of his neck as you look up at him towering over you.
but when he bends down to kiss you, his lips barely even brush against yours.
paul is always so tender, so delicate. his touch is consistently light, always scared to hurt you, never wanting to overstep a boundary. it's sweet and you're thankful he cares so much about making you feel comfortable. but sometimes, you crave something more.
when you lean back to break the kiss, there's a hint of confusion on his face. you take a breath, fingers reaching the back of his neck to play with his hair. "paul, you..." you start, tilting your head. "you don't have to be so gentle with me." you look to the side, feeling yourself crumble under his curious gaze. "i won't break, you know."
his eyebrows shoot up, taken back in surprise. your relationship isn't new per se, though you haven't been together for too long, either. he just always assumed that you wanted to be loved in a soft, gentle way. but now that he knows how you felt, he doesn't exactly complain.
"oh, really?" he asks, his voice making you look back at him instinctively. your eyes are met with his cute smile and his eyes forming those charming little crescents you adore so much. when you nod and take your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back a grin, his hands slip past the material of his suit jacket and reach for your sides underneath it. he doesn't just stop there; soon, his fingers dance along the hem of your top, thumbs massaging your skin ever so lightly. "like, now?"
you pause for a second. "yeah..." you're blushing even harder by now, but he doesn't notice because he's already leaned into you and kissed you again. this time, it's not just a brush and he's not treating you like you're made out of glass. his lips are pressing against you with a new type of confidence as his hands move under your top, palms feeling up and down your sides. his grip on you tightens and he backs you up against the side of his car. you let out a surprised yelp into his mouth when your back comes in contact with the cold material, and paul uses the opportunity to let his tongue slip past your now open lips.
as soon as you felt his lips on yours, it was like you both stepped into a bubble, leaving the rest of the world behind. you don't care how much time is passing, you don't care about who's watching; all that's in your mind is this new side of paul.
when he parts from the kiss, you find yourself chasing after him with your lips, disappointed to have ended it already. paul loves your reaction and grins from ear to ear when he looks at you, your eyes closed in bliss and lips slightly red from the kiss. "was that better?" he asks, smugness clear in his tone, and your eyelids slowly open.
you're completely breathless, unable to find any words to suit the situation, but you eventually manage a nod.
he leans down to leave a quick kiss to your forehead before opening the door to the passenger's seat for you. "you ready to go, then?"
maybe you'll have to work on that gentle side of his.
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cheolhub · 10 months
Note
YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL
Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk
12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol
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prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”
wc. ~1.4k
warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+
note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway  >< (def not proofread… sorry)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ
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seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted. 
well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would. 
your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”
and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best. 
piss him the fuck off.
by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.
but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics. 
but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly. 
“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”
and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”
you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”
vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.
“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.” 
the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.
he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.
how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.
honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door. 
“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”
“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.
he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?” 
his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.
“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”
you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you. 
his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.
he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”
you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”
“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums. 
“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately. 
he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.
you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.
he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.
a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door. 
seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you. 
and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party. 
his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”
pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him. 
“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt. 
“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time. 
you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly. 
he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you. 
and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.
you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.  
“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”
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i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.
So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work
(Don't) Go to War
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Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)
A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.
“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!” 
Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire. 
Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here. 
He had no right to fuck up the mission.
“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.” 
“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!” 
Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.
Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves. 
He was yours. 
“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”
“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.” 
“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”
Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him. 
Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?
“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…” 
Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.
“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?
The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward. 
Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate. 
“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.” 
Elias was going to lecture you again. 
He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end. 
You were so incredibly sick of it. 
Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well. 
Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection. 
Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.
The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not. 
“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”
“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”
“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”
No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job. 
Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance. 
This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.
You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet. 
The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well. 
All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun. 
“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…” 
Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him. 
So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.
Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.
“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”
“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.” 
“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”
Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl. 
“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.” 
“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?” 
Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor. 
“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?” 
“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.
“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you. 
Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath. 
The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away. 
Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.
“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes. 
You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine. 
And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery. 
Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was. 
This could kill us both.
All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.
Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand. 
“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”
“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.
“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”
A pause.
“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”
A sigh through the shocked silence. 
“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”
“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”
Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes. 
It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.
The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.
You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.
Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day. 
 The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well. 
But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions. 
Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk. 
There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason. 
There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason? 
I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath. 
You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.
Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”
Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips. 
“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old. 
His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.
“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.” 
The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback. 
Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of. 
But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad. 
There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.
He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.
What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.
“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them. 
Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless. 
They had you for that.
Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”
Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight. 
“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more. 
Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts. 
“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.” 
Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.  
“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”
“Copy.” 
“Dismissed.”
Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much. 
It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time. 
Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.
Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed. 
Wait…where was he? 
His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact? 
Annoyance plagued him.
Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.
Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.
The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.
With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.
Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep? 
Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look. 
And what was that tightening in his chest?
You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information. 
Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.
Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.
You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors. 
The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired? 
Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?
“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.” 
Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth. 
Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure. 
He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?
When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back. 
By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway. 
You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then. 
“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”
Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.
He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice. 
“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.” 
“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”
Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.” 
The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.
The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster. 
He was acting off. 
Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch. 
‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’
But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you. 
“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind. 
“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word. 
Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock. 
What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers. 
If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission. 
You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all. 
This was ending. Today. 
The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all. 
Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back. 
He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.
Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone? 
Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward. 
“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”
For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies. 
“Affirm.” 
He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.
Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later. 
It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.
Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.
The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left. 
Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.
Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people… 
“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost. 
You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.
“The fuck are you doing?” 
“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt. 
“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.” 
“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”
“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.” 
You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.
Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.
Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form. 
“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”
Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.
“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?” 
Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.
“The hell you looking for, Kid?” 
“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter. 
Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.
Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?
“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.” 
The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.
“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight. 
“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”
“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”
The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light. 
Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows. 
“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.
“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”
“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”
The air thickens.
Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.
“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.
“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!” 
The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.
Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it. 
“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.” 
Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.
“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?” 
You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth. 
Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”
“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!” 
“Watch the damn volume–”
“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”
“Listen to me. I need you to–”
“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”
“There was a sniper on the roof.”
Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear. 
Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood. 
“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows. 
He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.
“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…” 
The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.
“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”
Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed. 
But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.
“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”
“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?
“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”
Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut. 
Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?
Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.
You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.
A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.
“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”
Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting. 
“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break. 
But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch. 
Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold. 
Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot. 
Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips. 
“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”
Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”
“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“
“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”
You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything. 
It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.
Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.
He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.
Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.
Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base. 
“We should get going before–” 
Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.
One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.
Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.
“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”
His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.
Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently. 
“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.
Sniper scope. 
Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater. 
Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!
“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”
“What…what the fuck, Princess?”
“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.” 
You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.
You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to. 
He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.
Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place. 
“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.
“Working on it.” 
Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out. 
“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist. 
The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame. 
“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”
Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.
“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way. 
Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.
“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?
“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.
“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.
Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.
Did he just shiver?
“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”
“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”
“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”
“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”
“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”
“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.” 
Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath. 
You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”
“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”
“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.
He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.
“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart. 
“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”
The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.
“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”
…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.
“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”
“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running. 
He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him. 
There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.
“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more. 
You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.
“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”
Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.
He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him. 
A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.
“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”
“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”
“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”
Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side. 
You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.
“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.
“You needed to go into surgery–”
“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”
Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely. 
“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”
Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan. 
“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”
The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him. 
Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches. 
The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.
“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you. 
The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed. 
“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”
The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers. 
Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”
A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.
“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.
“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.
“Hm.”
“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up. 
A hand splays over your back immediately to help. 
Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it. 
When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back. 
Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?
“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.
“I should be asking you that.”
“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.
“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”
“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?” 
“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”
Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.
But, perhaps, it was time to try. 
“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”
“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.” 
“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.
His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over. 
“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”
You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.
Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.
“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”
You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.
There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now. 
Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown. 
Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.
When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.
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apomaro-mellow · 5 months
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idk how detailed of a prompt ur looking for but: Eddie thinks Steve's chest hair is hot for the bingo
im thinking of them going to the lake or something and Steve takes off his shirt and Eds nearly has a heatt attack bc yeah he'd seen Steve's chest before but he kinda repressed it? along with the whole upside down deal so he's like choking at the sight and at the newly found memory lol
but anything you come up with will be amazing im sure <3
every time i get a prompt i rub my lil raccoon hands together ehehehe
They weren't going to Lover's Lake. That had been the one thing everyone agreed on at first. Too much to unpack but it went without saying that no one wanted to relive the memory of what had happened in those waters. They all packed up and went about three hours away to a totally different town with a totally different lake.
"Summer time, a bunch of teens, a town where no one knows us", Eddie commented as they parked. "Did we just drive into another horror movie set up?"
"I think we can handle some random killer in the woods", Jonathan said.
Eddie couldn't argue. He knew for a fact that Steve had packed away his oh so trusty nail bat and that Nancy was strapped too. At a moment's notice, Robin looked ready to turn a beer into a makeshift molotov. But that was the last thought he wasted on the spring break from hell. Because the moment everything was set up, Steve pulled his shirt off like he was in a goddamn cologne ad.
That unnecessarily sexy way where he grabbed it off his back and pulled it of, shaking out his hair as if it would dare to fall out of place.
So here's the thing.
Eddie saw Steve shirtless that one time back in Hawkins. But it had been dark, and they were on a boat hunting an evil wizard and then in an underworld running from demon bats and there had been a lot going on, okay? He's ogled Steve plenty since then, now that he had time to, but he hadn't had an opportunity to see his naked chest again.
"Put on sunscreen!", Robin shouted, tossing it at Steve's head.
"Ow! Rude!" Steve picked it up and obeyed anyway, starting at his arms. Time seemed to slow. Or maybe Steve was purposely going slow, it was hard to tell. Then his eyes met Eddie and his next stroke up towards his neck seemed very intentional.
Eddie swallowed.
"Mind getting my back?", Steve asked.
Eddie didn't trust his mouth for once, so he just nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen and was definitely not thinking about squirting another kind of creamy white substance onto this beautifully dotted back. He tried to distract himself by looking at what the others were doing. Jonathan had already lit up a joint that he was now passing to Nancy. Robin was laid out in a chair, nose in a book.
Argyle was leading the kids down the shore to where they could rent out canoes. Or was it kayaks? All Eddie knew was that El was adamant on some sort of boating adventure.
"You okay back there?", Steve asked.
"Yep, yup, mhm. Almost done." He was done. The sunscreen was completely gone and he was just rubbing circles into his skin for no reason.
"You mind doing my chest too?"
"Wh-hat?", Eddie choked.
"I don't really like the feel of sunscreen on my hands", Steve justified and that was good enough for Eddie.
He still wasn't prepared for when Steve turned around. Eddie sat between his legs and god this might've been the closest they've ever been. Especially with this little amount of clothes between them, both of them in their swimming trunks and nothing else. Eddie squeezed some sunscreen onto his hands first, rubbing them together and warming it before pressing them to Steve's chest.
Goddamn it felt so....would it get thicker as he got older? It went all the way up to his collarbone and there was just a hint of a happy trail now but maybe with some time...
"They do know we're still here, right?", Nancy asked after letting out a puff. True, they were some feet away but still.
"I've got a spray bottle in case they go below the waist", Robin said, shaking said bottle.
Steddie bingo under the cut
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