#looking forward to seeing his bloom gear!

[egophiliac]

wait, hold on, I love them

[kissesbyliz]

getting caught

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, johnny "soap" mactavish)

cw: smut!! mdni, actually pretty fluffy, dom!simon x sub!johnny and reader

it was early in the morning, the sun barely present through your windows when you woke up. a soft smile stretched across your face as your drowsy eyes landed on a half awake johnny. you watched as his eyes slowly blinked themselves awake, before he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on your lips.

"mornin' bonnie." he greeted you, the tone of his voice low and raspy from having just woken up. on the other side of him, your other partner was still fast asleep, indicated by the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"good morning, johnny." you nuzzled into the warmth of his bare chest with a contented sigh. you basked in the comfort of the early morning, appreciating the feeling of having your boys around you that seemed to be so rare nowadays due to their careers.

...however, it seemed as though your body had other plans. warmth bloomed in your core as a tempting daydream played across your mind. fuck, the tone of his voice in the morning always managed to do things to you. your libido was always so high in the mornings, after all.

you glanced back up at johnny, something close to mischief shining in your eyes. you slowly trailed a hand underneath the plush blanket and down his body, barely grazing his length that was still covered by his boxers. you heard him gulp in response to your touch, a look of warning palpable in his blue eyes.

"would love to, princess. but si' is right there." he whispered to you, his bigger hand moving to circle around your wrist but not applying any pressure to actually stop you. you two weren't allowed to play with each other without simon's supervision, unless you two wanted to be in for a cruel punishment. you only giggled, fully groping his hardening length in your hands as he desperately tried to hold back a moan.

"better be quiet then, huh, johnny?" you teased. "technically, we're not breaking any rules if he's right there."

his mouth opened to counter your words, but any and all attempts at protest left him as your hand slid quicker against his cock. instead, his head fell back against the pillows in pleasure, and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he contemplated your words.

he swiftly peered over his side, checking to make sure that simon was still fast asleep, before letting out a defeated sigh and shifting to give you better access. his bigger hand came up to rest on the small of your back, cradling you to his body as you released him from the confines of his boxers. you slowly worked your hand up and down his length, the precum leaking from his cock aiding in your motions. his brow furrowed in pleasure, soft sighs escaping him in place of the low groans your touch would usually draw out of him.

you bit your lip at the sight of him coming so undone; the soft rays of sunshine always managed to make him look so ethereal in the mornings.

all of a sudden, a muscled arm unconsciously came up to lay across the expanse of johnny's chest. the two of you immediately froze, looking to your lover who fortunately seemed to still be fast asleep. you held back a snort at johnny's disgruntled grimace, unsatisfied from the pleasure you took in making him suffer.

you continued stroking his cock, biting your lip at the sounds of pleasure your fingers were drawing out of him. he was getting close, you noted by the increasingly quickening pants that were muffled under his hand. you twisted your hand just the way you know he likes, eager to bring him to his climax.

"you two having fun over there?" a deep voice rumbled from the other side of johnny. you squeaked in surprise, immediately retracting your hand from your lover's body. looking up, your attention was now directed at simon who was slowly getting up to prop his head on his hand, peering at the two of you. you weren't able to discern the expression he had on his face, but if you knew anything about him, you knew that it didn't mean anything good.

"well, don't stop on my account, love." he encouraged you, eyebrows raising. you gulped, not daring to move a muscle. it was a trap, you figured. he always loved to challenge you to dig yourself into a bigger hole.

"s-si' we weren't doin'--"

"wasn't askin' you," simon shot a harsh look at johnny, causing him to shut up immediately. the younger man sat up straighter as you did, anticipating simon's next words.

the blonde then heaved a heavy sigh, as though he was disappointed that he had to punish the both of you so early in the day.

"i'm gonna finish off johnny here, and you're gonna sit there and watch, princess. since you were so eager to break the rules, you're not getting anything." he declared. his words made you groan in frustration, but a sharp glare from him was all it took for you to quiet down. he sternly directed you to sit on the foot of your shared bed, and you obliged with a grimace, facing the two of them.

simon climbed behind johnny, the man obediently moving to make room for his partner's bulkier body. a big hand soon wrapped itself around johnny's cock, picking up where you left off. you held your breath as you watched simon's hand working up and down his length, every single inch of the sight only serving to further heighten your arousal.

simon muttered hushed words into johnny's ear as he stroked him. you couldn't tell exactly what he was uttering, but you knew it was nothing short of filthy, as whimpers soon spilled out of the younger man as a result. johnny's head fell back against simon's shoulder as he gratefully accepted every ounce of pleasure being drawn out of him.

the sight of your lovers being so intimate with each other made wetness pool in your underwear. your thighs clenched in attempt to sate the aching of your clit for any bit of stimulation, desperate to get in on the action.

"please, simon, wanna fuck him.." you finally whined, squirming from your place on the foot of your bed. simon barely spared you a glance, seemingly indifferent to your needy whines as he focused on jerking your partner off.

"you don't deserve it," he chuckled meanly as he nipped at johnny's neck, leaving marks.

"please si', need to cum," the man on top of him panted, his chest heaving. if the way you were getting him off before had him flustered, then now he was properly ruined, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as his hips bucked up desperately. you were definitely skilled in pleasuring your partners, but simon ultimately knew just how to make the two of you break.

"go right ahead, baby." simon encouraged into his ear, flicking his wrist faster. spurts of white painted johnny's stomach a moment later, as he came with a low groan. johnny panted heavily as he grew lax in simon's embrace, recovering from the aftermath of his orgasm.

you could only watch the exchange, feeling so, so neglected as you stared at the two of them. by now, the heat in your core was growing unbearable, and you needed something to help satiate it.

"wanna fuck her, si', please." johnny breathed as he finally eyed you blearily, head still resting on simon's shoulder. simon hummed, pondering his words as he stroked a thumb over johnny's forearm lovingly.

"that what you want?" johnny nodded eagerly, and you moved closer in anticipation. simon chuckled, nodding towards you. "go ahead then."

johnny didn't waste a second, nearly tackling you as his big arms pressed you to lay down on your plush mattress. you complied with just as much enthusiasm, ridding yourself of your clothes and spreading your thighs wide to invite him in. he fumbled a bit trying to slide inside of you, and the two of you let heavy moans as he finally pressed into you.

his motions were clumsy at first, obviously still a bit dazed from his previous orgasm. however, his pace soon resolved and sped up, hips pounding into you as he desperately worked to bring the both of you to your climax. the two of you were all moans and whimpers, hands stroking all over each other's bodies as you relished in the pleasure.

eventually, you felt that knot start to tighten in your stomach, and you looked up at him johnny with a silent look of desperation. it didn't take long for him to catch on, lowering a hand to work at your swollen clit. the added stimulation made you melt, and you cried out with a gasp as you finally came undone. johnny finished inside of you a second later. the two of you breathed heavily, staring at each other with nothing less than love in your eyes.

however, your eye soon caught back onto simon, who now had his cock in his hand, hard and ready from watching the scene unfold in front of him. the need to have both of your partners overtook your senses, and you cried out for him needily, "want you to fuck me too, simon, please.. i need it."

"never satisfied, are you, princess?" simon snorted, no real heat behind his words. his arms planted themselves on either side of your body as he hovered over you, replacing johnny who had moved away to take a much needed break.

he took a moment to admire your body, leaning down to kiss and lick at every inch of your exposed skin. his hard cock pressed up against your folds, and you couldn't help but whine at his teasing. he shushed you softly, leaning back up before finally, finally sliding in.

he was big, considerably bigger than johnny, and the sheer size of him filling you was delicious but overwhelming at the same time. your face involuntarily scrunched up in a grimace, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. at the sight, simon eased up on his motions without a second thought, bending at the waist to press loving kisses on your face.

"still good?" he murmured, and you nodded pathetically. even during your punishments, he always made sure to take the utmost care of the both of you.

you eventually adjusted to the stretch, and you were soon grinding up into him in need for more. he readily obliged you, his hips snapping into you. pleasure coursed itself through your veins as whimpers and whines spilled out of your mouth.

it didn't take long before you came with a loud cry. simon followed suit, finishing inside of you as well. a feeling of satisfaction settled in your chest as you panted, coming down from the intensity of your orgasm.

simon pulled you to his chest, laying back on the mattress. johnny took his usual place behind you, pulling the blanket to cover all of your bodies. you sighed, feeling complete with both your boys around you.

"love you two," simon hummed, a hand stroking through your hair. "though, let's not break the rules again, yeah?"

[cowboydisaster]

Dark Red

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 5.6k summary: The Task Force 141 goes out drinking, and you wind up on your stomach in Ghost's bed. If you knew it would only take a few rounds of drinks, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. (eventual smut, lots of family 141 interactions beforehand) a/n: This is my first COD fic and also the first thing I've written since May, so go easy on me if it's ooc pls xx. If you like this fic please give a follow or a reblog, I'm fixing up my blog and I'll be writing a lot more Simon. beta read by @margowritesthings warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (smut, fingering, size difference, doggy)

masterlist

Your dress is wrapped tightly around your frame, held up by tiny golden chains that drape over your shoulders. It's dark green, and just barely covers your ass. It's definitely not the tactical gear that you’re used to wearing. You swallow thickly, pulling it down over your thighs as much as possible as you glance over yourself in the mirror. You barely recognize the reflection in front of you. No eye black, no tac-vest or combat boots. Tonight you’re not a soldier, you’re a civilian.

Price had arranged a night out to celebrate the 141’s latest win. He invited the Task Force alongside some allies for drinks at a club of all places, figuring everyone deserved to unwind. You were hesitant at first, but the boys all reassured you it would be just a few drinks. 

Once all the little details of your outfit are in place, you give yourself a onceover before pushing open Price’s bathroom door. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price are all leaning over the kitchen counter, speaking quietly about the mission. They smile, oblivious to you as you exit the bathroom, feeling a bit self conscious about the dress Kate insisted you wear. That is until Ghost catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye and quietens. He turns, and you watch his back straighten, hands in the pockets of his jeans as his eyes slowly run up and down your body. Something about that stare… you wonder if Ghost would ever see you the way you see him. It's been years now of you pining after him. You could never tell him. He’s your lieutenant, and besides, you’ve heard what happens to the recruits who make a move on Ghost. Every single one of them was harshly rejected and dropped from the program. You can't compromise your job, especially not for someone who doesn’t want you back. 

 Ghost stares, and the other three men turn to you in sync. A fierce blush blooms across your face as four pairs of eyes land on you. Ghost is wearing that familiar balaclava, the one he wears out in public or around the base. It hides everything but his eyes, and you stare into their swirling depths for a moment before the eye contact becomes too much. You clear your throat, glancing down over your dress. 

“Too much…?” You whisper, questioning your choice of fashion and makeup. 

“No…Not too mu–” Ghost is cut off as Soap lunges forward with a smile bigger than Texas and slaps you on the arm.

“Lookin’ good, bonnie lass!” Soap laughs. He looks nice himself. You’ve only seen him in sweats around the base, but tonight all four of your teammates are dressed to the nines. 

“Not so bad yourself, Johnny.” You smile, clutching a small purse to your hip. 

“We ready then, Cap?” Gaz asks, glancing up from his phone for a moment, “Laswell just got there, said she brought König.” 

“Yes.” Price smiles at you, checking his watch, “I've ordered two Ubers. Should both be here.” 

You follow them outside, smiling and nodding to Ghost as he holds the door open for you. The Captain and Gaz take the first car while you file into the second with Ghost and Soap. Soap sits in the front, leaving you in the back with Ghost. Your lieutenant is quiet most of the ride over, letting Johnny fill the silence, which he does. But it's hard to focus on Soap talking. You’re hyper aware of the eyes on you and how exposed you are. Your breasts are practically pushed up into your face, and the dress suddenly feels all too tight. You’re used to fighting, not celebrating, not partying. You take a few deep breaths, knowing that once you get a few drinks in your system you’ll feel better. 

“You alright?” 

Your eyes flick up. It’s Ghost, just barely over a whisper. His eyes are fixated on something out of the window, but he still must have noticed your anxiety. You nod.

“Just nervous.” You admit, “I’m not used to all this.” You whisper, gesturing down to your dress and matching strappy heels, then to the car that is driving you through the nightlife. Ghost smirks under his mask. 

“Me neither. Bourbon helps.” He says. 

“You drink bourbon?” You ask, glancing over. Soap hasn’t noticed your little conversation and continues to chat up the driver. You hadn’t taken Ghost as a bourbon man, he’s piqued your curiosity. 

“I fancy Kentucky.” He remarks. You chuckle. 

“Don’t let him know that.” You nod your head in Soap’s direction. 

“Never.” Ghost smirks, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Your eyes fixate on the tattoos lining his left arm, just briefly exposed. You force your eyes away, knowing if you stare too long you’ll get caught up in the intricate pattern. The thought of running your fingers over those tattoos lingers in your head, soothing you enough to make the ride. 

—

The club is nice. Colored lights stream from the ceiling, a steady thrum of music vibrates lowly through the walls. You take in your surroundings, watching people drink, and dance with one another. It's a bit dark, hard to make out faces. You take note of all the exits while following behind Gaz and Price, both leading you all towards a closed off section of the club. Laswell is already there waiting along with her wife and König. The man must have already had a few drinks because he’s more relaxed than you've ever seen him. König’s eyes immediately land on you, and flutter down to the short cut off of your dress. You gasp as a burly figure pushes past you, separating you from König’s eyes. Ghost. He stands between the two of you and starts unclipping the velvet rope that separates you from the VIP section, much to the bouncer’s frustration. You blush, looking back to König whose eyes are sheepishly staring at the floor. Ghost must have pulled out his famous deadly glare. Your cheeks burn red. 

“There you are!” Laswell exclaims, motioning for the bouncer to lift the velvet rope that secures her area. No one seems to have noticed the little interaction between Ghost and König, thankfully. 

“VIP?” You chuckle. “Was that some CIA shit?” You ask, passing into the nicer, more secluded area of the club. A couch wraps around the corner wall, a table sitting in front of it. 

“Afraid not.” She smiles, wrapping an arm around her wife’s shoulders. You take a seat on the couch, watching as Ghost motions for Price to follow him towards the bar.

“We’ll be back.” He mumbles. Price pats Ghost on the shoulder as you watch them leave. 

“So, König?” Soap asks as he sits down, nodding towards the masked man. You take note that a beanie rests atop his head in place of his usual tac helmet. 

“Hmm?” König asks, suddenly alert. His eyes dart until they land on Soap. 

“How many drinks is it gonna take for you to shed the mask?” The scot asks. König grows quiet, tightly gripping his beer bottle by the neck. 

“Nein, I do not–” König begins before Soap jumps up, fist down on the table. 

“Nine?!” Soap laughs, “Keep em comin’, Ghost!” Soap hollers towards the bar. König shakes his head profusely.  

“No, that is not what I meant.” König tries to clear the situation up, but is drowned out by noise as Gaz and Soap laugh together. Laswell shoots you a knowing glance. You feel for her, being the only woman to watch these children.  

“You went with the dress I suggested.” Laswell notes, a proud smile gracing her lips. 

“I did.” You remark, blushing, “It's a bit tighter than what I’m used to.” You admit, sitting up straighter as a few from the table look back to you. 

“That's the point.” Laswell laughs, shooting you a quick wink. 

Before you can ask what she means by that, Ghost and Price return with two trays of shots. Half the shots are a golden, bronze color and the others are crystal clear. You raise an eyebrow as Ghost sits down beside you. 

“Get your bourbon?” You ask. 

“Had three down at the bar. You’ve got some catching up to do, yeah?” 

As everyone plucks shots from the trays, Ghost slides three in front of you with his knuckles. Two bourbons and one of the clear liquor. 

“What's this?” You ask, picking up the shot and holding it under your nose. It burns your nostrils, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with a sharp sting. 

“Patrón.” Ghost replies with a smirk. Your eyes follow as he grabs a clear shot from the tray with one hand, and pulls his mask up over his lips with the other. You’ve never seen his lips before. He brings the small glass to his lips, and you try to memorize the shape of his them, the jut of his jaw. It's gone in a flash as he downs the shot like it’s water before pulling his balaclava down over his chin. 

“Your turn.” He smirks, giant hand pushing the shot glass towards you. 

You follow suit, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol slide down your throat. You grimace at its strength, making a sour face. 

“Fuckin hell.” You cough. 

“You’ve got a bit of catching up to do.” Laswell points out, nodding down the table. You notice as Gaz takes the last shot from the first tray and your eyes boggle. 

— 

An hour later

Steady music thumps through the building. It feels slow, sensual. Maybe it’s because you’re wasted, but your confidence is through the roof as you make your way across the dance floor. Your eyes are locked onto your group, specifically searching for Ghost. The more alcohol that enters your system, the more you find yourself staring at him, noticing his every movement, every breath. You’d never allow yourself these thoughts while sober– the thought of wanting your Lieutenant is out of the question when your mind is clear, but right now it’s not. Your eyes search for him as you make your way back to the VIP section. 

“Lt?” You ask, sliding back onto the velvet sofa. 

“Went for a piss.” Soap exclaims.

“Why don’t you go meet him in the bathroom, maybe he could finally bend ya ov–” Johnny starts. 

“Soap!” Price cuts him off harshly. Soap only laughs, looking down the table to Gaz and the Captain. You look between the two of them, absolutely oblivious to the jokes that have been passed around the table all night.

“Oh, come on, Captain! He wants her and everyone knows it. We all see that shriveled up, cold, dead heart meltin’ at the sight of this bonnie.” Soap points to you. 

“Bloody hell, we bet on it!” Gaz chuckles, adjusting his cap.

“I must admit, I do see it.” König adds in. You squint down the table at him, and he immediately looks away. Price looks down at the boys like he’s schooling children. Your mouth falls open, taking in all the new information. 

“Remember that's your lieutenant you’re talking about. Leave his private life alone. You know how Simon is.” Price interjects, stopping the conversation before it gets out of hand. You blush fiercely, taken aback by their words. You don’t even think about what they’ve said, you can’t. Price looks to you apologetically. 

“What?” You ask, looking between them. “Ghost?” You double check, making sure that your hearing hasn’t totally left you. 

“He’s gone on you, mate.” Gaz adds, tone more serious than you would have expected.

“Christ, just pass me another drink.” You say, extending your hand out as König slides a shot down the table.

—

Thirty minutes later

You can feel his eyes on you. They’re burning through the thin fabric of your dress, where your breasts rest perfectly inside the silk, where the curve of your ass swells just above the hem of the dress. Your cheeks blush, whether from his eyes or the alcohol you’re not sure. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide his gaze, openly staring at you across the floor. His bourbon is held tightly in his hand as he watches you twirl on the dance floor between Soap and König. The lights aren't nearly as bright as your smile, and the night isn’t nearly as dark as the glint in your eyes. 

Ghost had watched men approach you on several occasions, and each time Soap shoved them away from you. You hadn’t given any of them the time of day. But Ghost? You’re taunting him, testing his self control to the point that he’s about to break. Every swing of your hips accompanies a purposeful glint in your eyes, a subtle bite of your lip. You’re teasing him, and he can’t take it. 

He deserves it. This is payback. He’s been apparently wanting you for months, and everyone in the damn Task Force knew about it but you. You’ve had enough of it. You extend your drink out for Soap to hold, accidentally bumping it against his chest and spilling a bit down his shirt. He takes the glass with furrowed eyebrows, looking down at your tipsy frame.

“Where ya headin’ to?” He yells over the music. 

“Have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, j-just watch my drink.” You stumble over your words, eyes never leaving Ghost’s. Soap nods, taking your cocktail and continuing his conversation with König. 

Ghost inhales deeply from across the room, eyes fixated on the taunting little “come hither” motion of your finger. You turn away from him, making your way towards the VIP bathrooms. You walk slow enough that he can follow after you, not that you’re even capable of walking too fast, lest you lose your balance and fall over. You push past a few other people, your heart beating quickly as you go. The music is loud and the lights are low, which you’re grateful for. Hopefully no one notices Ghost trailing behind you. A warm buzz radiates in your chest, pulsing down your bones as the liquor you’ve been downing boosts your confidence and slows your movements. 

You push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. It’s clean and orderly, perks of the VIP section. Immediately, you walk in front of the oval mirror, checking over your outfit and fixing your hair. You reapply a quick layer of red lipstick, tucking it back into your purse just as you hear the lock click. 

Before you can turn around, a solid warmth presses against your back. Ghost. The sink digs into your hip bones as he sandwiches you in, one hand pushing your hair over your shoulder. His skin on yours is more intoxicating than any drinks you've had tonight. He's never touched you, not like this. You giggle, tipsy as ever as he rolls his balaclava over his nose. 

"Ghost–" You whine, fingers clenching around the sink as he gently nips at the skin of your neck. He inhales your perfume, exhaling in a deep growl that rumbles through you. 

"Simon." He corrects, hands wrapping around your hips. For just a moment, you sober up. He wants you to use his real name? 

Your coherent thoughts fall away as he turns you around, hands nearly bruising your waist. He kisses you. It's sloppy and drunk, but it's everything. All the months of wondering, and hoping– he's kissing you. If you'd known it would only take a few rounds of drinks for the courage, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. Painted fingernails dig into his shoulders as you lean up for more. His tongue delves into your mouth, and you whine. He tastes like his favorite bourbon, smells like expensive cologne– his signature scent that you could recognize anywhere. Eventually, you pull away for the oxygen that he's so easily stolen from you. 

"Everyone said…" You take a deep breath, glassy eyes flicking from his scarred lips and chin up to his eyes. He waits for a response, but sees hesitation.

"Hmmm, what did they say, love?" 

"They said you wanted me." 

"How couldn't I?" Ghost growls. 

You yelp as he grabs underneath your thighs and lifts you up onto the sink. His hands are massive, maneuvering you as if he was trained to do so. Your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against the pressure in his jeans.

"Fuckin hell, I've wanted you since you first joined the Task Force." Ghost growls in between kisses and bites to your pulsepoint.

You think back to all that time ago. It seems like ages since you met the cool headed, brooding, terrifying Simon "Ghost" Riley. You remember thinking how easily he could break you. Now?– Oh, how you want him to. 

Hearing him say it out loud sends a wave of need straight to your core. Your hands shoot for his black leather belt, but he shakes his head, stopping you before you can unclasp it.

"Not here, love." He shakes his head, gripping your chin to press one slow, sweet kiss to your plump lips. Your eyes slip shut, and you pout as he pulls away from you and slides his balaclava back down over his chin. Disappointment pools over you as you search for an explanation.

"Flat's not far." Is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you off the sink. He unlocks the bathroom door and begins pulling you back towards the crowd. "Here. Order us an Uber, yeah?" Simon asks you, slipping his phone into your free hand. 

It's too much for your drunken mind to take in as he leads you through the crowd of people. Colored lights strobe, making it hard for you to make out faces, but eventually you spot your group across the club. Soap is still holding your drink, but now he's looking around. Price and Laswell are with him, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Remembering your task, you look down to Ghost’s phone. It's already opened up to the app, but messages are coming in and you can't swipe them away quick enough. The light bothers your eyes, and you attempt to read the messages as they flutter across the blurry screen.

Cpt. Price:

-Is y/n with you at the table? We seem to have lost her. Very worried.

You swipe the message away, and quickly order an Uber to Ghost’s saved home address. It's difficult, and you have to squint to make out all the swirling numbers and bright lights. But eventually, even in your state, you manage to get a confirmation code and receipt. An unsaved number pops up, more than one notification at a time lighting up the screen:

-LT, where'd you end up?

-Y/n asked me to hold her drink, disappeared on me. 

-OH SHIT

-LT!

-YOU HOUND!

-HAHA! Getting a pump, eh, LT? No worries, lad. I'll tell the Cap what's going on.

Several erotic emojis pop up on the screen and you blush fiercely.  Then you giggle. Soap, of course. You shake your head to rid yourself of the idea. The last thing you want is for Soap to blab about this. 

Simon pulls you through the exit and into the cold night. The breeze causes a shiver to run up your spine, and your dress helps none. As he leads you towards the road, you check the address once more and slip Simon’s phone back into his blazer pocket. 

"I d-didn't know you lived in Manchester." You whisper as he leads you out into the cold night. 

"Manny, born and raised.” You can hear Ghost huff through his mask, as if something humors him, “But no one knows where I live." He mutters, leading you down towards the busy street. 

No one except for you.

Cars pass by, and scantily clad men and women rush down the sidewalks searching for the same pleasure that you’re seeking. You bite your lip, feeling a bit nervous now that this is actually happening. Simon squeezes your hand. 

A steady trickle of rain begins to sprinkle down from the dark night sky, and goosebumps trail down your bare arms and legs. As soon as you tense, Simon is pulling his blazer off. 

“Simon, that's not necessary, really–” You begin to protest, but he is already wrapping the expensive jacket around your shoulders. 

“Hush.” He warns, and you obey. It's instinct. He’s your lieutenant after all.

You can see the tug of a smirk under his mask, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his brown orbs flick down over your body. You frown lightly, feeling bad that he’s given up his jacket for your sake. 

“Don’t worry, love. I'll be taking it all off soon, yeah?”

The alcohol buzzing through your system, making everything fuzzy, only intensifies the burning desire in between your legs. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. If you had it your way, he would have already taken you, bent you over the sink and had his way. The thought alone causes butterflies to fall in your stomach. Cold fingers wrap around Simon’s phone, still resting in the coat you’re now wearing. His recent notifications are all from Soap, and you scroll through them until a new one pops up on the screen.

“Car’s here.” You whisper, half lidded eyes searching until you find the sleek, black Volvo as it pulls against the curb. He takes your hand again, pulling you towards the car. 

“Simon, how long is this ride gonna be? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” You admit, wanting nothing more than to tear your damn dress to shreds and throw yourself at the man beside you. He only huffs, showing a self restraint that you could only dream of. 

“Patience.” Is all he says as he opens the car door for you. You step inside the nice car, scooting towards the other side to make room for Simon to sit in the back with you. You see the momentary panic in the driver’s eyes as a 6’4 masked man climbs into his backseat, but Simon only places his hand on your thigh and politely confirms the details with the man. 

Simon grips your thigh, the large pads of his fingers leaving imprints on your soft flesh. You shake your ankle, distracting yourself from the desire growing in your abdomen.

“Drive fast, yeah?” Simon mumbles, sliding twenty quid to the driver.

—

The door lock clicks. Simon checks it twice. 

His hands are on you in an instant, picking you up by your thighs and pushing you up against the wall. He didn’t turn the lights on, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark as Simon’s lips run over your jaw in sloppy kisses. You moan, hands wrapping around his neck and resting on the back of his balaclava. 

“Simon, please–” You whine, throwing your head back as he nips your earlobe. 

“Just a second, darling.” Ghost growls, holding you against him. He carries you through the dark flat, maneuvering drunkenly down an even darker hall. He approaches a door, and kicks it open like a human battering ram. You’re slowing him down, your lips pressing against him everywhere that they can reach, leaving love bites that he’ll still have in the morning. You kick your heels off before he even sets you down, your hands tearing off the blazer from your limbs. It hits the ground, Simon’s phone buzzing silently in the pocket. He’ll find several missed calls from the boys in the morning. You don’t even want to think about the notifications your phone is receiving. Luckily, you dropped your purse as soon as you entered the front door, so it can be a problem for tomorrow. 

Simon gently tosses you down on his king sized bed, and you fall onto the plush black blankets. They’re warm and soft and they smell like him. It’s all too intoxicating. You lean forward and unclasp Simon’s belt buckle as quickly as your intoxicated hands can manage as he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it. You’re taken aback as you notice a sizable scar on his ribs. It's a messy, deep, pink scar that indents into his otherwise pale skin. Your eyebrows wrinkle, fingertips brushing near the flesh before he snatches your hand away, squeezing it too tight to the point that it hurts.

“Don’t.” Is all he says. It’s a warning, and you blush a deep crimson out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry.” You mutter, quietly. Simon brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles. 

Ghost leans forward, hand gripping the side of your neck as he kisses you again. His balaclava tickles your nose as you deepen the kiss, leaning more into him. Any embarrassment or awkwardness from your last interaction falls away as he pushes his jeans down over his legs, lips still interlocked with yours. Simon steps out of his jeans and boxers, and your jaw falls slack. 

“Simon–” You stutter, eyes fixated on the length between his legs. Your eyes flick back up to his face, seeing the proud smirk he wears, even through the mask.. He simply won’t fit. It’s just not possible– He’s too big.

“I can’t-” You shake your head.

“I’ll be gentle, love.” He reassures, climbing overtop of you on the bed. Nervously, you nod. You trust him. Big hands grab you by the waist and flip you onto your stomach. You whine, clutching the sheets below you. He shushes you, and you gasp as golden beads and zipper teeth fly across the room, bouncing off of the floor and the glass window overlooking the city. A loud tear rings out as Ghost shreds your dress from the seams.

“Fuck, Simon! That was expensive!” You yelp as he pulls the ruined fabric from your body, discarding it on the floor. Laswell’s gonna kill you.

“I’ll  buy you a new one.” He growls, warm hand running down your bare back. His finger loops under the black lace thong you’re wearing. Simon smirks, “All for me?” He asks, releasing the lace so it smacks back down onto your skin. 

“Yes– all for you, only you, Simon.” You mumble, pushing your ass back up in hopes that he’ll touch you.

“That’s my girl.” 

You moan at his words, hands moving to your hips to shove the lace down off your legs, but he brushes your hands away, stopping you.

“Leave it on.” Simon rumbles at your back. You nod your head against the pillow, bringing your hands to rest under your head. Ghost pulls your thong string to the side, letting it rest just out of the way.

“Fuckin ‘ell, love.” Simon takes a breath, trying to keep the control that you’re so close to snapping as his fingers trail over your dripping folds. 

“Fuck, Simon. Stop teasing.” You beg, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckles, dipping two fingers into your throbbing cunt. 

“O-Oh!” You whine, gripping the sheets as he hooks his thick fingers, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. Simon kisses your back, nudging your legs with his less busy hand so that they’re folded under your stomach and spread apart. He positions you low enough that your stomach touches the bed. He curls his fingers, scissoring them occasionally as you throb and whine for him. He groans at the noises you make, working you open until you’re ready. 

“Perfect.” He grumbles, sliding his fingers out of you. You whine in confusion until you feel the tip of his length teasing at your entrance. 

“Ready, love?” Ghost asks. You moan, biting your lip and nodding your head. 

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes. Im ready, just– please Simon, fuck!” You stutter. 

Simon slowly pushes in, and you gasp for air as he parts you like the fucking red sea. It hurts a little, and your nose wrinkles as you exhale. Simon notices the hitch in your breath, carefully examining your reaction to make sure you’re comfortable. It only takes a few moments for you to acclimate, and then he feels incredible. His size stretches you, reaching depths you didn't think possible. He hits every sweet spot as he spears into you. 

Simon’s chest presses against your back as he pushes into you. His scarred lips lock onto your neck, biting you as he fucks you from behind. He grips the headboard to steady himself, nearly leaving indents in the wood as he thrusts.

It's rough, drunk and sloppy as he drills into you. He starts out at a slow and steady pace, grinding into you rhythmically so as to not hurt you. Your exhales become sharp huffs, swirling together with the puffs of air he exhales next to your ear. If only you could turn around and kiss him again. You crave his lips against yours, satisfying the craving you’ve been ignoring for so long. But you know Simon might not be ready for that level of intimacy yet. You’ve heard stories, connected the dots. 

All too soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge from his movements. You gasp and moan under him, whimpering out his name so loudly that you’re sure the entire building can hear. The headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust, loudly slamming and leaving dents in the drywall. Neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to even realize. 

Your neck is bruised from Simon’s lips, adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you over the edge. You fight it, but lose as pulsing heat tears through your core. Stars explode in your vision, eyes shut tight enough that they wrinkle. 

“F-uck, Simon!” You scream, nails digging into the sheets as your whole body trembles with the weight of your orgasm. Your walls squeeze Simon’s length in time with his thrusts, turning him into a groaning mess. 

“Bloody fuckin ‘ell." Simon groans, accent thicker than usual. His warm breath tickles your ear, and you gasp as he bottoms out, hitting your cervix. 

“You- You on the pill?” Simon manages to stutter out between deep grunts. He can’t risk pregnancy, can’t be a father. But you feel so fucking good and he can’t bring himself to unbury himself from your perfect, dripping cunt. 

“Got the patch– you’re good. Just fucking fill me up, please.” You beg, rocking your hips against him. He nearly curses at your words. You have a foul mouth in bed, something he wouldn’t have guessed. You whimper his name, and that’s all it takes. 

Simon grunts deep and guttural, and with one an iron grip on your hips, he fills you up with his spend. You moan, taking it all until you can’t, and it comes dripping out around him before he’s even finished. 

“That’s it, fffuck– y/n.” He grunts as the last of his seed spills out.

You press your forehead against the sheets, wincing as he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. A sheen of sweat lines both your bodies, but as much as you’d like a shower, you’re exhausted. A digital clock rests on the table beside Simon’s bed, and you sit up, squinting to look at it. 0300. Damn. 

You look back towards Simon. He’s half sitting up against the headboard, half laying down. You notice the thousand yard stare that he’s putting off, and you gently cup his chin, pulling his gaze towards you. 

“You okay?” You ask, rolling up his balaclava with your dainty fingers. You uncover the subtle smile on his lips. You smile in retur, half lidded eyes focusing on the shape of his lips. Your thumb traces over them gently.

“Better now.” He whispers. You press a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet before pulling away. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. Much to his surprise, you tuck yourself into the crook of his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. Sleep overcomes you almost immediately. He’s too warm, too perfect. It’d be impossible for you to stay awake next to the comforting, human heater that he is. 

Simon hesitates. It’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to him. The bourbon gave him confidence enough to bring you home, but this is a very new territory, and not even the alcohol can guide him through this one. Sex is one thing, but intimacy? Emotional vulnerability? Simon burned those handbooks long ago.

“Love?” He asks, awkwardly looking to see if you’re awake. You don’t respond, asleep he confirms. Simon’s not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to move you. Are you comfortable? Is he too close? Too warm? 

He sighs, looking down at your arms tightly wound around him. No one’s shown him this type of affection, not ever. He’s not sure how to reciprocate it, but he wants to. One day at a time. Simon pulls the blanket up over your waist, checking twice to make sure that it's covering you. Carefully, he places a hand over your back, feeling your soft skin against his. 

He doesn’t sleep at all, opting to stay awake and watch the small rise and fall of your back on his lap. He doesn’t deserve you, he's sure. But you’re here, and that’s something.

[pearlesscentt]

love in the little things : svt vocal unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (vocal unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 883 words

hiphop unit | performance unit

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — you entered the room with hesitant steps, feeling like there was a weight of a hundred pairs of eyes watching you. as expected, the class reunion was already in full swing when you arrived. you weren't even looking forward to coming tonight but your friends insisted that you all come. JEONGHAN must've felt your hesitation as you felt his hand on your back, you let out a sigh of relief.

with his hand there, you felt your confidence bloom. it was as though the warmth of his palm released all the tension in your spine and all the knots in your stomach unraveled.

as the night unfolded, laughter and music filled the air and you found yourself more at ease, able to savor the nostalgia with your friends and enjoy the moment. his touch on your skin was like an oath, whispering, "i've got your back." in that promise you found strength and certainty that he, both literally and figuratively, will always be there for you.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — it all began one evening when frustration started to bubble up inside of you after another failed attempt at painting your nails with your non-dominant hand.

"hey, can i help?" JOSHUA's gentle voice cut through your frustration, accompanied by a soft smile.

you looked at him skeptically. "do you know how?"

he shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "no, but I can try."

with a shrug and a chuckle, you handed him the nail polish bottle. the brush looked almost comically small in his hand, but with a surprising level of precision, he began to paint your nails.

since that day, it had become a cherished ritual for the two of you. you found yourselves sitting on your bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered nail polish bottles, talking about your days in between every soft stroke of color. joshua insisted that you call him whenever you wanted your nails painted, a promise you initially rolled your eyes at, but soon enough, you found yourself dialing his number the next time around.

after that evening, painting your nails wasn't just about a pretty set anymore. it meant precious time spent with your boyfriend. it was in these simple acts of love that you found solace in, transforming mundane tasks into cherished memories.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — truthfully, you were too intimidated by WOOZI's music ingenuity; that's why it took you so long to admit how it's a lifelong goal of yours to be able to play guitar. actually, you weren't even planning to tell him at all, but you slipped up and accidentally did on one drunken night.

now, here you were in the soft glow of your dimly lit living room, fingers fumbling over the frets and strings of your boyfriend's guitar. you were frankly embarrassed with how little you knew about it — you probably looked more like a toddler learning how to hold a crayon — but woozi's eyes were filled with unwavering patience and determination to help you learn.

he guided your inexperienced fingers to the right positions, his touch reassuring your every move. "you're doing so well," he'd tell you. it was a soft but sure reminder that he will be with you through every chord and unpolished strum.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — as you were grabbing a drink from the fridge, a metaphorical lightbulb appeared on your head. "love," you called out. "how many chickens do you think it would take to bring you down?"

DOKYEOM paused the TV show he was engrossed in, pondering your question. it was like you could almost see the gears turning in his head. after a brief moment, he responded with a smile, "honestly, just five, i think."

"seriously, just five?"

"love, have you seen how aggressive they can get? they're seriously scary," he shuddered at the mere thought of being chased around by chickens.

with a chuckle, you walked over to join him on the couch. he had a delighted look on his face. he loved your questions, and you cherished his willingness to engage with them; whether they were as lighthearted as, "would you rather shoot water from your armpits or fire from your butt?" or as profound as, "where would you be right now if nothing else mattered?"

seokmin's thoughtfulness came naturally to him, further proof to his genuine and kind-hearted nature. it was just one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

꒰ 🌸 ꒱ — a thing about SEUNGKWAN is that he's always armed with a colorful assortment of band-aids, each of varying sizes. he insists that he had learned to come prepared because of your perpetual clumsiness, often with a shake of his head while muttering, "you should really be more careful." but the whole truth is that he absolutely adores taking care of you; his teasing complains were merely a cover for the affection he feels.

you didn't even realize how often it happened, but tender moments like that had become a treasured routine for the both of you. from having a pink band-aid for a paper cut on your index finger to a star-shaped oversized bandage when you scraped your knee, seungkwan was always ready to swoop in and make you feel better.

in those band-aids, you had found a unique love language; one that combines nurturing and steadfast attentiveness — a love you hold very close to your heart.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

See You At Sunset - a Lost Without You Drabble

Summary: You and Billy get lost on the way to Polzeath for a holiday, and decide to kill time by 'watching the sunset' | Word Count: 2.4k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Billy W Taglist

A/N: Can be read as a standalone or as part of the Lost Without You story as a prequel 💕

Warnings: semi-public sex, sex in a car, p in v, praise

Billy remembered the last holiday they went on together, in the late spring. They'd driven to Cornwall with a hired minivan. And before arriving into Port Isaac, they'd stopped on a country road in the late afternoon when the sun touched the sea. He'd made love to her in the driver's seat and admired the way the orange sunset kissed the colour of her hair. She looked gorgeous then, face flushed and legs astride him.

"Billy, I'm telling you for free, we are lost"

She says for what feels like the hundredth time.

Billy sighs, one hand clasped on the steering wheel and the other resting on the side, his fingers anxiously running through his sandy, blonde hair.

"We are not lost. The satnav is just on the piss" he grumbles, leaning forward to fiddle with the settings on it. Trying to type in 'Polzeath' again with one shaky finger while concentrating on the road with the other.

"Billy!"

"Shit!"

He slams on the brakes, seatbelts tugging at their chests, about to go straight through a level crossing as the gates are going down. The velocity of it makes her pull forwards in her seat, ripping the map she'd been looking at right in two.

Once he's caught his breath a bit and calmed the rapid beating of his heart, she snorts a laugh.

Billy looks over unamused.

"Didn't we do this whole 'having a holiday in the UK thing' because it was less stressful?" he asks, half-annoyed.

She hums, "Yeah it was supposed to be" she smiles, leaning over to put her hand on his leg, soothing his knee with her thumb.

He spares her a boyish smile, covering her hand with his and giving a loving squeeze, before moving it to the gearstick to move off again.

It's not such a bad place to be lost. The sun is slowly starting to set, the pink and orange sky beginning to bloom at the horizon. He drives quietly, the minivan a little clunkier than his usual Vauxhall, shifting between the gears clumsily, not used to the stiffness between them.

The sign to Port Isaac zips by quickly and when she looked over the windscreen, she could see how the sea reflected the warmth of the imminent sunset. The air was warm and cosy, with a slight nip to the skin as the evening approached. But all the same, it was tranquil and almost painfully serene.

The country roads were narrow and quiet. A weekday meaning there wasn't a soul about, and with the school holidays months away, it was pleasantly calm.

She looked over when Billy sighed and rubbed his eyes, just wanting to be in the Airbnb they'd booked to be in bed as soon as possible. His clutch foot was starting to kill and she could tell he was getting irritated, having driven for hours before this point.

She pressed her lips together, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Pull over there" she said, pointing over the dashboard to a passing point.

Billy tapped the brakes, looking over, "Here?"

"Yeah, pull over"

The only sound was the click of his indicator as Billy pulled in, tugging the handbrake up.

Through the windscreen, the view of the sea was visible, stretching out past the greenery of the nearby empty fields. The blades of grass swayed gently in the breeze of the late afternoon.

She clicked off her seatbelt and sat forwards, leaning over to see the view better, "nice, isn't it?"

Billy looked confused at her, wondering why she'd asked him to park up just for a glance at the view they'd be seeing for the next few days anyway.

He shrugged, "Yeah, it's…nice"

She bit her lip lightly and shuffled over, flinging her leg over his lap to straddle him. For a moment, Billy didn't know what to do with his hands, as they hung in the air. But once she sat atop him, his hands rested at her hips, looking up at her questioningly.

Fairly quickly though, as her inner thighs brushed his bulge, his face lit up with a smile, tugging her hips down to circle against his pelvis.

"I like this view better though" he added, barely above a gruff whisper. She swatted his shoulder playfully to draw attention away from the way her cheeks were warming, earning a half-hearted chuckle from him.

Their relationship had always felt so natural. At the beginning, Billy had been a bit reserved, not wanting to take things any further than he felt she was comfortable with. He’d never classed himself as particularly good with women, nor at being able to tell what they wanted or were thinking.

He was one of those guys who thought that growing up, women somehow knew more about him than he did, and that when he met women of a similar age to him, that they were more mature than he was, knew more about the world, and were already so wise beyond their years.

She never held that against him.

In fact, she found it endearing that Billy would think of her so deeply in this way. That he took it slow, for himself as well as her, as neither of them had felt so close to a person like this romantically. And both of them didn’t want to ruin that by hurtling themselves headlong into it without thinking.

In the last few months though? Something just…happened.

When she held him, Billy felt as if she were holding his heart in her hands, cradling it like it was precious.

And it hurt in the most beautiful way.

Nobody had ever treated him with such sincerity and care. But she did.

He never wanted to let that go.

Their love was languid, like they had all the time in the world and felt they didn’t need to rush, allowing things to develop naturally.

He loved that about her.

She leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, the setting sun glowing on the right side of his face, illuminating the stubble that gathered at his jaw in blonde little wisps. As she smoothed her hands along it, the blunt, not-so-freshly shaven hair rubbed comfortingly along her palms. She watched his baby blue eyes slip shut, joining her efforts and pressing his mouth to hers, his tongue dipping against hers to slip into her mouth, tilting his head opposite to her.

His thumbs pressed into her hips, moving her in slow, careful motions on top of him as he kissed her like he wanted to devour her entirely. Every now and then, with the wet smack of their lips parting for air, his hands wandered to her bare thighs, beneath the thin material of her skirt. And when he gripped the flesh there hard, he reveled in her short, airy gasps into his mouth, and moaned lowly as she pressed herself harder onto his growing erection.

His large hands wandered up, and he pulled away for a second, his cheeks pink with both shock and excitement.

“Have you not been wearing knickers this whole time?”

She only smiled in reply, dipping her head to his jaw in little micro-kisses, “Maybe. Why? Is that a problem?”

A shuddered breath was the only thing that managed to slip from his lips, as one of her hands traced the hard length constrained within his jeans.

Somehow he managed to say something, “ - fuck - no, no, not a problem at all, baby -”

His hips began to chase her touch as she stroked him teasingly through the denim. She leaned back a little, having left a little love-bite on the sensitive skin of his neck, to watch his reaction to what little she was doing to him.

His eyes fluttered halfway open when he re-doubled her efforts to unzip his jeans, undoing the button and pulling the fabric apart, his mouth doing something similar, only half-open with a whisper of breaths pouring out.

He looked at her, the sunset casting warm rays either side of her, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

It wasn’t quick, but there was hunger. And the longer either of them stretched it out, the more each of them wanted it, but daren’t not do anything fast or rash to ruin the precious moment they’d made together.

"Please babe, don't tease me -"

Billy's stomach muscles tense when she circles her hand around him, already half hard, and pulls his length free from his boxers, shuffling forward to straddle his lap a little closer.

He doesn't know what he prefers more, the way her hand pumps him, squeezing slightly at the tip where he's most sensitive, or the way her features and skin are illuminated by the soft sun, casting a soft gleam against the sea.

"So needy" she coos, stroking him entirely to full hardness.

She takes him in with her eyes like a meal, watching the way his skin reacts to her touch. The way his cockhead pokes out from her grip, red and alert, sweeping the arousal that leaks from it with her thumb, which serves to send a full body shiver through Billy's body.

"But I suppose you've been good" she smiles at him, her breath hot against his cheek. He tries to chase her lips with his, desperate for any contact, but he groans in disapproval when she keeps moving away.

She hovers over him, his length in her hand and guiding him to her centre, where she's been entirely ready for him since the moment they got in the car. Mischievously having had this idea the entire journey here.

She sighs in delight when his length disappears inside her, the stretch a welcome one, enveloping him completely in her wet warmth. His mouth hangs open, no sound coming out, his hands rising upwards to her waist and then her breasts in desperation to do something, anything to her as well.

Her breath hitches when his hips move and his cock throbs inside her when he bottoms out, briefly touching her cervix in what she can only describe is surprise. He's much longer than any partner she's had before, and whenever they fuck it's always paramount she's prepared, so that they don't have to hold back.

But she's been ready for hours.

"Billy-"

"Oh my god - babe - you're fucking perfect -"

It's all he's able to say.

Praising her. It just comes so naturally.

Because that's what she is to him.

Absolutely entirely perfect.

His hand grabs her bare hip beneath her skirt for leverage, using it to move her hips on top of him. The slightest fit of friction has both of them moan softly into their open mouths.

The sheer sound of her sex being thrusted into slowly is enough to fill the silence.

"Christ, you're so wet, baby -"

Any notion of dominance she felt over him is completely dissipating now with the micro-movements of his cock spearing her apart.

He feels dirty looking down and watching the way he disappears inside her, but it's just too tempting. Billy watches, pride rolling in his stomach as he breathes, as each time he pulls out of her she glazes him with her arousal, coating the inside of her thighs only slightly.

The inside of the car is hot, and with one of her hands on the window for stability, it's starting to fog up as well, her steady moans rising in volume with each snap of her buttocks against his thighs.

It's a good job it's a weekday, and the roads are quiet, so that nobody can see the erratic movement of the rented minivan.

"Fuck - Billy-"

He grins. He doesn't know if he will ever get tired of hearing her moan his name.

" - you need to stop saying my name like that, I'll cum too quickly, baby -" he whispers.

Her misty eyes meet his, her face contorted in pleasure as the coil winds impossibly tight in her belly.

Billy leans forward, briefly slipping deeper inside her, making her moan helplessly. He tightens his hold on her hips, moving her backwards and forwards as well as up and down on his length, watching as she tilts her head back and a melody of gasps and sighs slip from her mouth.

" - yeah, right there, baby? -" he whispers, "- fuck, you look so gorgeous like this - want to cum in you-"

"Yes, yes - Billy, fuck - please don't stop-"

His shuffling of her hips back and forth has the head of his cock bully that sweet spot inside, quickly fucking up into her with a wet smack that only seem to increase in speed and volume.

He can tell she's close, so his thumb trails down over her belly to rub her clit in tight, small circles, now slick with her arousal. She tightens around him, holding him inside her, until she falls off the edge with a strangled cry of his name.

True to his word, he doesn't stop, even as her pussy is fluttering around him in the throes of her intense orgasm. He fucks her through it, searching for his but also loving the way her face twists in sheer pleasure at the overstimulation.

Her heartbeat thrums through her, all to her bud, which Billy hasn't given up on, and he swears he can feel every beat through her as he fucks her.

Billy thrusts shallowly as he finishes deep inside her with a long, strained groan. She moans loudly feeling his warmth inside the deepest parts of her, moving her hips on him to gain that last bit of friction before he softens within her.

After he's caught his breath, feeling a sheen of sweat covering his skin, he looks up and feels that all he can do is smile at her.

The sun is barely visible above the sea anymore, and the pinkish tint of the days passed illuminates her form with a glow that seems almost heavenly. If his cock weren't deep inside her, he'd think she were a saint or an angel.

Looking down through hooded eyes, she smiles back at him lovingly, her breasts moving steadily as she calms the erratic beating of her heart.

"Think we'll get the deposit back?..." she laughs exhaustedly, earning the same reaction from Billy.

She was always funny.

Billy sighs, his palms now soothing where he'd gripped her so hard earlier.

"Not sure if I saw the clause about shagging in the hire van" he jokes back, happy that he got the same reaction.

Their foreheads, tacky from the effort, press together.

Her fingers run through his sandy hair, thumbs stroking his cheeks appreciatively.

Her mouth a whisper away from his.

"I quite like Port Isaac" he smiles boyishly against her lips.

"But, Christ, I fucking love you"

dividers by @saradika

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Billy W Taglist: @fan-goddess @assortedseaglass @chainsawsangel

[leggerefiore]

Basically, this is the Subway Bosses leaving their announcement microphone on and broadcasting something they say to s/o across the gear Station

cw: sexual implication and themes in Emmet's part, 18+ content in Emmet's part

▲Ingo▼

The Gear Station was busy as always as you stood among the crowd with Ingo. He gazed around the carefully, clearly looking for anything that made need his attention. You could only shake your head. The older twin was not the time to grant himself even a moment of respite when his beloved came to see him at work. You had brought him lunch, since you felt worried that he might skip out on it today. He and you chatted absent-mindedly about assorted things for a moment, going between when he would likely be home for work and possible evening activities together. Everything was peaceful despite the situation around you both.

Well, it was until his radio perked up and a nervous voice of a train driver echoed through, alerting Ingo that there was a delay on the C-line to Opelucid City. He clicked his tongue and muttered an acknowledgement before moving to grab his portable microphone that was used for announcements. A familiar alert jingle rang out through the station alongside Ingo's voice as he gave the update that he just received to the commuters of the station. It was repeated once after to make sure it was heard and understood. He shook his head and sighed. You knew this just confirmed his feelings of being unable to rest easy on any shift.

Ingo leaned towards you to take the lunch box from your hands and press a kiss to your cheek. He looked at you with loving eyes and spoke sweetly, “I love you always, my dear, and I thank you for giving me such a kindness.” It would have made you gasp and hug him had it not been for one issue.

His voice also echoed out through the station's PA system. Ingo stood mortified for a moment before quickly moving to turn off his microphone. A few people froze and looked around the station, baffled by what they just heard. You could see Depot Agents scratching their heads as they tried to figure out just what that message meant. Ingo's face bloomed bright red as he tried to act like that had not just happened. Of course, he was denied such a thing as his radio flared to life again.

A familiar voice came out of it.

“Ingo, I love our job, too, but we cannot just confess our love to our commuters like that!” Emmet's voice was teasing even through the static on the frequency.

“I…” he picked up the radio to reply, “I am going to lock myself in our office. Please do not disturb me.” With that, he stumbled away with the lunch box to do just as he said.

You could only watch him in pity.

▽Emmet△

Emmet pinned you playfully to the office couch. He hovered above you with a teasing grin as his gloved hands danced under your shirt. You shivered at the feeling and let out a soft whine. You had come to surprise him on his break, but everything had quickly turned into something steamy as Emmet pulled you into his lap for a cuddle. A kiss became something more, and that is how you ended up pressed against the black leather as Emmet hovered above you like a predator. Before he could lean down for another kiss, his radio started up. He pouted but picked it up.

A driver on the other end spoke with a tired tone, stating there was a delay on a B-line going to Undella. Emmet gave a curt acknowledgment and whined as soon as the line was quiet. You could already tell he was not looking forward to this mess during a peak vacation season. He turned on his portable microphone and made the most dry and monotone announcement he could, declaring the delay to the Gear Station. He repeated it once more and shifted his focus back to you. It seemed he still had a quickie in mind.

His lips pressed to yours as he rutted against you, surging pleasure through your veins. You both were quickly getting hotter and hotter, so Emmet pulled away to tug up your shirt. Then, with a teasing grin and playful eyes, he asked, “Are you ready for my Eelektross, darling?” You then bucked up against him and caused him to groan. This mood, however, quickly ended as you both heard his voice echo across the station. He instantly turned off his microphone and pulled away from you, completely petrified. You did not think that you had ever seen anything manage to ruin his libido.

His radio flared to life again. A familiar angry voiced blasted out of it loudly.

“Emmet,” Ingo spoke threateningly, “What was that?”

Emmet then curled into himself and begrudgingly picked up the radio.

“I am Emmet, and I am no longer horny.”

You could not stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ortho Shroud - Bloom Birthday Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Ortho: It's like a dream come true to get interviewed for my birthday as a student here at Night Raven College.

Ortho: And on top of that, thanks to my big brother, I was able to retrofit my gear to look just like everyone else's outfits… I'm super happy.

Ortho: Oh yeah, I should make sure to capture all this on film. I wanna show this to my brother… Oh, and my dad and mom.

???: Film? …I suppose I'll have to ask later. Pardon me.

Sebek: Happy Birthday, Ortho. It seems I have been tasked with being your presenter today.

Ortho: Woah, hey! Sebek Zigvolt-san! Thank you. I look forward to it.

Sebek: Right… You mentioned just a moment ago that you would be capturing this on film. Essentially, does that mean you intend on recording my words and actions?

Ortho: Yep. And if you make any mistakes, maybe Malleus-san will end up seeing alll your embarrassing moments. You better do good.

Sebek: Humph, as if I would disgrace myself before someone like you. I shall read out the first question now.

Sebek: “Are you good or bad at flying?”

Ortho: Hmmm, that's a toughie. I mean, especially since I'm a humanoid…

Ortho: I can't just cast magic on a broom and fly like you or the other mages here.

Sebek: Hm? You mean to tell me that you do not usually use magic to float in the air?

Ortho: Yeah. It's more like technomantic energy… Maybe it'd be easier to say it's a hybrid of electricity and magic.

Ortho: By swapping out my gear or any attachments, I can increase my speed, or even fly for longer periods of time.

Ortho: For me, as long as I have technomantic energy, I can fly wherever I want…

Ortho: I can even fly no problem through difficult obstacle courses, or fly at a constant speed.

Ortho: That's why for a little while after I became a student at Night Raven College, I made sure to observe the flight and P.E. classes.

Ortho: Unlike you guys, it's not like I would gain any stamina or strength through training, after all.

Sebek: You were observing us? I suppose I do recall seeing you flying with some of the students last week or so.

Ortho: Oh, so you saw me. Actually, I recently started helping out by supporting Vargas-sensei during his classes.

Sebek: You're supporting…? As in, as his assistant?

Ortho: Yep. During flight classes, I fly along my classmate's brooms and capture data on their form and time.

Ortho: Using that data, I'm able to identify everyone's habits and weaknesses and provide suggestions for improvement.

Sebek: Hm… That would indeed be helpful to be able to get an objective analysis of my flying posture.

Ortho: Right? And Vargas-sensei praised me too, saying, "When you're around, the students' muscles gleam even brighter"!

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Sebek: Next question is…

Sebek: “What is something that made you glad you could use magic?”

Ortho: Eehh, that's another tough one.

Ortho: I might have been able to develop a soul that can use imagination like you guys, but it's not like I can actually use magic…

Ortho: Because all of my functions are based on technomantic energy…

Ortho: But if I were to answer as a student of a mage institute should… IT'D HAVE TO BE THAT I'VE MADE FRIENDS HERE!!

Sebek: You're a student of the most prestigious Night Raven College, and your answer is to speak of the friendships you've developed?

Ortho: Yep. Because I came here originally as one of my brother's "gadgets," I was able to meet a ton of living people…

Ortho: And now that I've started taking classes as a student, I've had the opportunity to come in contact with so many more people.

Ortho: I had a ton of fun with the groupwork we had the other day. You know, the one where we had to study up on some of the legends of the Great Seven.

Ortho: You did that in your class too, right?

Sebek: Indeed. I found writing a report in a group of 4 to be a rather impractical assignment.

Ortho: Oooh, so you don't find group work to be practical, huh. Interesting.

Sebek: From the way you speak, it seems to me like you look upon that sort of assignment favorably.

Ortho: Yep. Whenever I listen to other people's opinions, even if we're reading the same story, everyone has a different interpretation, so I find that super fascinating.

Sebek: Interpretation?

Ortho: I guess I could also say that everyone values different things.

Ortho: And then I realized that the thought that everyone puts the most value in is strongly connected to their past experiences… their "memories," so to speak.

Ortho: For example, if you were born and raised in Briar Valley, you would've probably heard so many anecdotes of the Thorn Fairy from a young age.

Ortho: That's why there would be more passion, more zeal in the discussion about her.

Ortho: And some may believe that their idealized versions are more correct than a proper database.

Sebek: Idealized, you say? The Thorn Fairy is absolutely a great being. No amount of praise would ever be considered to be too much.

Ortho: If you're that adamant, then we should have a discussion about it sometime.

Ortho: During class the other day, I sourced documents from my database and soundly destroyed all the inconsistencies in their arguments…

Ortho: So I wonder just how far you'll be able to keep up with me, Sebek-san.

Sebek: Don't you put me in the same category as your classmates. I have read an abundance of books on the Thorn Fairy.

Ortho: Oooh, so you're saying you might actually have a leg to stand on. Then this might actually be promising.

Ortho: Alright, then let's pick a day for our discussion sometime later. Heheh, I'm looking forward to it.

[Ignihyde Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]

Sebek: This is the final question.

Sebek: “How do you spend your days off?”

Ortho: Hmm, there's a lot I do, but… I guess I often find myself watching movies or stage plays online.

Ortho: Recently, though, I've been spending lunch or tea time with my dorm and classmates.

Sebek: Lunch and tea time? You don't eat, though.

Ortho: Yep. But my goal there is to just chat with everyone. I also listen to their grumbles about their studies or relationships with others.

Sebek: Humph, how absurd. What good will come of listening to other people complain? Why don't you try spending your time doing something more worthwhile?

Ortho: Ehh, but it's pretty interesting. Just by watching how people react over every little thing helps me learn, too.

Sebek: What do you mean, learn?

Ortho: I've found that all the stories I hear from people are really good references for me to look back to whenever I need to act a part.

Sebek: Act a part…? Ah, right, you joined the Film Research Club. So essentially, you're saying you're feeding off of human interactions.

Ortho: Ah. This past weekend, we didn't have a club meeting, so I went into town with my brother.

Sebek: Your br… YOU MEAN TO TELL ME IDIA-SENPAI ACTUALLY WENT OUTSIDE!?

Ortho: Yep!

Ortho: We play this one game that uses our phones' GPS function, so sometimes we head out there together.

Ortho: We'll go to a restaurant that's an in-game spot where we'd be able to gather items and pick up some food that we'd already ordered online…

Ortho: And once we get to Whistle Park, we'd eat at one of the benches there. After that, we'd plan out the rest of our day there.

Ortho: And then, when he's done eating, we'll walk around the park looking for items, or have some encounter battles.

Ortho: Kinda sounds fun, like a real picnic, right?

Sebek: I can't say I know what game you speak of, but… It definitely does seem like you have a good time.

Sebek: Back home, my parents, older brother and older sister would always take me to the park to spend time.

Ortho: Heh, sounds like you and your family are pretty close, too. That's just like us!

Ortho: Me and my brother, as well as our dad and mom, used to go play at the nearby park, or even at a forest or river back in the day, too.

Ortho: …Although ever since my brother started to shut himself inside his room, we haven't been able to go anywhere as a family anymore.

Sebek: Well, it seems Idia-senpai has gotten to the point where he can actually go outside again. Perhaps there will come the time that you will be able to travel somewhere as a family again?

Sebek: That person needs to leave the house more. You should do what you can to take him out camping, traveling, or what have you.

Ortho: Yep, you're right. Sebek-san, thanks for your advice!

Sebek: I'm your presenter, after all! It's only natural that I should be able to present this sort of advice.

Sebek: You may come ask me anything you wish when you plan to take your family on a trip outdoors.

Sebek: The interview has now concluded. Here, your broom. There are blue flowers in the center of the bouquet, it suits you rather nicely.

Ortho: Woah, this is my first ever personal broom! I didn't actually think I'd get one.

Ortho: There's so many different kinds of flowers here. I'll have to fly carefully so as to not blow them away with my jets.

Sebek: Take this broom and take flight. That is testimony to your status here as a student of the most prestigious Night Raven College.

Sebek: Don't you dare show us a shameful sight on your birthday, Ortho.

Ortho: Of course! Make sure you keep your eyes on me while I fly, Sebek Zigvolt-san!

Ortho: it's time to show off the special gear that I made specifically for today. I'm totally gonna shock everyone who gathered here for me.

Requested by @rotattooill.

[kotias]

Writer retaliation - Danee's comic

The angst war rages on @goodomensafterdark !

I SAID THIS IS MY TURF AND I WILL DEFEND IT TOOTH AND NAIL.

@daneecastle you're up 🫵

Word count: 827 words

Disclaimer: no, I didn't write this in the span of thirty minutes, I'm not a monster yet. Danee was kind enough to give me a little peak at the after-fluff and I worked with that 😁

Liquid gold dripping on the floor. One, two, three steps forward, leaving the trail of his righteous vengeance behind him, soiling the perfectly sterile ground of Heaven.

In the background of his consciousness, his nose informed him of the smell of burning flesh. Rationally, he knew where it came from, and that wasn’t from the sword lodged into Crowley’s body; a celestial flaming sword might be made of flames, yes, but it was not one to leave a trace, even the particles of scent, behind. He grabbed the handle, pulled it out, and let it go in a loud clang before dropping to his knees with a sigh.

It took a little while before his ears, deafened by the screams of those victims he had sworn fealty to, heard a weak groan, and he opened his reddened eyes, saw Crowley’s body jerk. His gaze followed the lines of his waist, the wound in his chest, the scarf around his neck, and stopped at his face, twitching in pain.

His heart skipped not just a single beat, but most certainly eight or ten of them, as he rushed to grab the sword, inspected it in disbelief, wondering- wondering if, somehow, by some miracle that God had bestowed upon them, it might just be defective. It didn’t look like it was- and he scrutinised it further, refusing to trust this blessing just yet.

“Angel?” he heard from a rough, tired voice on his left side, and his heart bumped into his chest yet again. “What happened?”

He threw the sword a long way from him, heard its clangs resonate in the distance, and with each of them, his heart jumped, wanting, wanting to believe in the Lord’s mercy at this moment. “I will tell you about it later, dear,” he answered with a sweet smile.

“Fine,” the demon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Then can you untie me?”

Untie hi- Oh. As his body was slowly recovering from the adrenaline, as his eyes stopped seeing everything with a red sheen, he realised how… delightfully twisted Crowley’s body was at the moment, vulnerable, bound under hi-

“AZIRAPHALE!” he screamed, fully affronted by his flustered hesitation.

“Oh- sorry, I guess I haven’t been myself,” he answered, rushing to help him up and liberate him from his bonds.

“Yeah, I’d say…” Crowley groaned. The ropes fell to the ground, and he looked away for a bit. “I didn’t say anything weird, did I?”

And the memory came back to him like a blooming, hot tempest, the words I love you, angel ringing in his ears, his face contorted in pain, tearing up as he thought he would be living his last seconds, his lips opening to utter those words…

Bump.

His heart was beating, one bump at a time, reminding him that it was well and truly present, its cadence so wonderfully sinking into Crowley’s presence.

“Uh-oh… What did I say?” He gulped, his lips quivering as he felt the weight of his next action on his shoulders. “... Angel?”

One last breath in, and he drew close to him, pressed his lips against his, tasted him for just a moment. He smiled against him and pulled only slightly away, whispering against his mouth. “I love you too.”

“Uh-” Crowley started, and closed his mouth again. Aziraphale could practically see the gears turning in his brain as the information settled into it. “Uh-” Oh, dear, he wasn’t doing alright, was he? An amused form of worry settled in his chest, and only then did Crowley startle him, more flustered than he had ever been. “WHAT DID I SAY?! What happened?! And why, why are you covered in gold shit?!”

“Oh… well…” Now came the embarrassing truth of the last day spent being anything but an Angel of the Lord, Guardian of humanity. “... You said ‘I love you’. Then… you were stabbed. Then, I… well, took care of Uriel and the Me-” He couldn’t fully admit it, not when it had felt like another him for those long, excruciating hours, those last words turning and turning in his head like a metronome. “Oh, please don’t make me relive this…”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, looking quite displeased by this half-explanation. “Vague…” And, blessed as he was, he sighed in defeat. “Fine.” Their hands intertwined, and the warmth of him went straight to Aziraphale’s chest. “Let’s go home, angel.”

“Yes- yes, of course, Crowley,” he answered, his voice breaking apart with relief, and he stood up, pulling the demon up with him to bring him to the lift down to the Earth, absolutely certain that this, all of this, was the ending they had secured for each other.

And yet, it was but a fantasy, he thought, opening his reddened eyes to Crowley’s still body. His gaze followed the lines of his waist, the wound in his chest, the scarf around his neck, and stopped at his face, resting in the crimson shroud of his own blood.

[nanawritesit]

Being the Unofficial Gardener of the Ouran High School Host Club Headcanons

anonymous said: “Hi! I've read your rules and i really like the ohshc thing you did so I'm going to request if that's ok? this is like an Oc without a name, Reader is the quote and unquote gardener of the host club. ( i cannot believe they just don't have a supplier when they use that many flowers i mean c'mon) Their grandpa owns a successful business selling flowers. Reader's grandpa raised them, Thats because readers mom died giving birth to them and readers dad died of cancer. (Reader used to get bullied for this since all the other kids at school thought their grandpa was going to sell them). Reader kind of has this standoffish personality. but just doesn't know how to communicate properly when you get to know them, they're actually really goofy.”

It’s true, the host club could never function without a reliable flower supplier. And lucky you, your grandfather happened to own the most successful flower business in the country. That’s how you were able to afford going to Ouran Academy.

The partnership began during your first year there. You shared a few classes with Kyoya, but you were never very close with him because of his intimidating family background.

He was also a bit intimidated to talk to you because of your closed off personality, and the rumors that had been going around about you being bought from your parents by a strange old man for garden labor didn’t help.

However one day, he decided to listen in on a conversation you were having with one of your friends. You were talking about a great sale your grandfather had made to supply flowers for a government ceremony.

He immediately felt guilty for falling victim to vicious gossip, but connected the dots about your family quickly. And of course, that got the gears in his head turning.

He was still in the early planning stages of founding the Host Club with Tamaki, and securing a trustworthy flower supplier was something they had been worried about

So, being the strategic communicator he is, he smoothly approached you and invited you over to the Ootori residence for a cup of tea

You were shocked that someone with such high status as him was interested in associating with you, but as soon as you realized it was a business proposition, you opened up a bit more

You were happy to get your grandfather another customer, especially one as wealthy as Kyoya, and soon you were making plans on what flowers and what arrangements he wanted

Fast forward to now, you’re both second years and the Host Club is thriving, you almost can’t keep up with the amount of flowers they go through

Most of the work you do is behind the scenes, so you didn’t really get to interact with any of the other club members

That was, until one day when your grandfather asked you to make a delivery to the club with a huge batch of flowers so he could attend a business meeting

You were nervous, but agreed anyway. Luckily there weren’t any guests in the music room yet, just the club members

Immediately a gush of rose petals blew in front of your face, and the sight of six handsome guys greeted you

You just stood there like a deer in the headlights

Tamaki was the first to approach you, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it

“Ah, what a beautiful blossom that’s bloomed before us as our first guest today. Would you do me the honor of telling me your name, my princess/prince/ noble?”

“Y/N?” a voice suddenly asked. You both looked over to see Kyoya entering the room, surprised to see you but not at all displeased.

“You know each other?” Tamaki gasped.

“Yes, this is Y/N Y/L/N. They’re the grandchild of our flower supplier. It’s all thanks to them that we have enough flowers for all our events.”

All the guys immediately started crowding you, asking you a million questions at once.

You were a little overwhelmed, but just smiled politely and answered all their questions.

“You’re so lovely, it’s a wonder I haven’t seen you around the academy before.” Tamaki smirked, flirtatious as always.

“Well, I tend to hang out in the shadows. Back in middle school everyone made up rumors about me and it made me a bit of a loner.” you explained with a shy chuckle.

“Yeah, I heard your parents went bankrupt and sold you to their old loan shark to get out of debt.” Hikaru commented nonchalantly.

“Yeah, and I heard you’re an indentured servant who has to do hard physical labor everyday after school.” Kaoru added.

Tamaki immediately turned around and scolded them, waving his arms and yelling at them to be more polite in the presence of a lady/ gentleman/ noble.

“It’s okay Tamaki, I’m used to them all by now.” you chuckled. “My parents actually passed away when I was younger and left me in the care of my grandfather.”

“Y/N-chan, do you help grow the flowers too?” Honey asked excitedly, gazing up at you with huge eyes.

“Yes, I do actually! My grandfather taught me everything he knows about gardening, and it’s something I really enjoy doing!” you responded.

“Wow. That’s cool.” Mori said flatly. Although you could tell it was sincere.

“Why haven’t you introduced us to them before, Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi asked, turning to the vice-president.

“I didn’t mean to keep them from you, there was just never an avid opportunity. But I suppose now is a good a time as any to make the introduction.” Kyoya answered, adjusting his glasses and turning towards you. “Y/N, meet the Ouran High School Host Club.”

They each went down the line telling you their names and types, which was quite entertaining. You had heard of the club’s popularity but never gotten around to visiting them.

“I’m sorry we go through so many flowers. It must be difficult to grow so many.” Haruhi said sympathetically.

“Oh it’s no strain on the business, I actually tend to most of your club’s stock personally so that my grandfather can focus on his other sales.” you reassured her. “However, I do sometimes wish I could grow more plants. I could probably run an entire garden just for the Host Club!”

Tamaki’s eyes immediately lit up. “Y/N, that’s a marvelous idea!”

“Hm? Oh no, I was only joking…” you laughed nervously.

“Actually, that might be a useful investment.” Kyoya began, placing his fist under his chin in thought. “It would be nice to have our own garden and not have to worry about business transactions.”

“Senpai, Y/N can’t grow us an entire garden for free!” Haruhi exclaimed. You were touched that she was immediately on your side.

“Don’t be silly, we’ll pay them an adequate salary.” Kyoya told you. “And of course a small share will be given to their grandfathers business as a courtesy.”

“I want to grow lots of pink flowers!” Honey cheered, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Think of all the schemes we could pull with a whole garden of flowers at our disposal!” the twins beamed in unison, joining hands and twirling around.

“I can see it now… lush bushes of roses and hydrangeas, hanging branches of cherry blossoms and orchids, cobblestone paths lined with lillies and tulips!” Tamaki declared, striking a grand pose at the center of the room. “Get ready men, because soon the Ouran Host Club will have a brand new garden!”

You looked around at all the chaos unfolding before you. Kyoya was already typing up a budget on his computer, Mori was chasing Honey around the room as he threw handfuls of rose petals in the air, and Haruhi just stood there with her head in her hands.

“I had to make a joke, didn’t I…” you sighed to yourself.

While you were initially overwhelmed at the daunting prospect of creating an entire garden, it turned out to not be so bad. Kyoya handled most of the property scouting and landscaping with his endless business connections. You were pretty much just in charge of picking what flowers to grow and taking care of them.

And so, everyday after school, you would go to the new garden behind the building and tend to your flowers :) Your grandfather was very happy that you were making friends and spending less time at the business

Haruhi would usually come by to help you water the plants when she needed to sneak away from the chaos of the club

She loved your chill personality, and you always made her laugh and forget her stress in a second :)

You had your suspicions about her gender from the beginning, but you never really cared. You didn’t really see people as labels, just who they where on the inside. It was this mindset that actually made her comfortable enough to confide her secret in you!

Honey would sometimes come by and bring you some cakes that were leftover from the club activities, and you’d sit on a swing and eat them together <3

Sometimes he would bring Mori along, and while you were a little shy around him, you were happy to see that he was also interested in your gardening. He would often ask you what different flowers symbolized, and what kind of care certain flowers needed

The twins would come by to gather flowers for their various schemes, and would often encourage you to take a break and have some fun with them!

The three of you would run around the gardens, playing tag and hide and seek until you were all so tired you were sprawled out in the grass, panting and laughing wildly

Kaoru was happy to see Hikaru finally opening up to someone, and would sometimes try to give the two of you space to talk by yourselves

Hikaru could listen to you talk about flowers for hours and never get bored. He also liked to tuck them behind your ear, smiling at how pretty you looked <3

Tamaki always seemed to be busy tending to his numerous princesses, but every once in a while he would come by to thank you for making this all possible

And of course, he couldn’t help but flirt with you a bit :)

“All these gorgeous blossoms… and yet none of them compares to your beauty, my dear.”

You would’ve fallen for him had you not been so smart

Kyoya was probably the one you saw most often, as he was the one you knew the longest and the one who planned out most of the garden

He was always making sure you had enough equipment and starts, and discussing new arrangement ideas with you

“Are you sure it’s not too much work for you, Y/N?” he asked sincerely.

“Oh it’s not too bad, it’s not like I’m working myself to the bone.” you reassured him. “I mean yeah, it would be nice to have some help, but it would have to be from someone who understands gardening.”

“Why don’t you start a gardening club?” he proposed.

You jaw unhinged in shock. “Oh Kyoya, that’s a wonderful idea, but I don’t know the first thing about starting a club.”

“I do, and I can help you. I founded this club after all.” he smiled, adjusting his glasses.

After a few weeks of paperwork and meeting with the school board, you became the president of the Ouran High School Gardening Club :)

The guys were all so proud of you, they decided to host a ball in your honor!

You were hesitant at the idea, still a bit self conscious of all the rumors that had been spread about you in the past

But after much convincing, you agreed. The twins even got you a custom ball outfit from their mother’s fashion line!

Tamaki took his place at the foot of the staircase to greet all the guests, making your heart beat out of your chest from behind the double doors.

“Welcome princesses, princes, and nobles of Ouran Academy! Thank you so much for attending this ball in celebration of the founding of the Ouran Gardening Club! The president of this club is someone that the Host Club is very close with. In fact, if it weren’t of them, there wouldn’t be a single rose petal at any of our events. Please join me in welcoming Y/N Y/L/N!”

You then made your entrance, a light downpour of rose petals floating around you as you descended the staircase <3

You looked around to see everyone cheering for you and smiling at you admiringly. You started wondering why you ever retreated into the shadows in the first place. It was almost enough to bring a tear to your eye.

Halfway through your decent, you looked down to see all seven members of the Host Club holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers! They must have asked your grandfather what they were ;)

As you reached the bottom of the staircase, the applause ended. Then, all the guys held out their bouquets to you with warm smiles.

“Thank you for being our gardener Y/N!”

[ashleigghh]

Day 8: glitter- raising harry, 1004 words.

Harry James Potter was born at 5:14 am, the sun had been rising but the stars were still visible in the sky, and flowers were in full bloom. He was brought into the world crying, little sobs escaping his tiny face, but he was quickly comforted, he had four parents after all, and he was completely surrounded by love.

Harry had been blessed with two mothers and two fathers, all who would have moved heaven and hell just to see him smile. It wasn’t always smooth sailing, James and Mary would bicker about what Harry wore, if he was warm enough, what if he was too warm? Well, it isn’t like he’ll be able to tell us, leaning over Harry peering down as if trying to read his mind while he giggled and waved his hands around. 

Lily and James would whisper in hushed tones, snapping at each other while trying not to wake Harry, bickering about who would get up with him in the night, who would buy the next set of clothes, who would go out to buy more supplies, who was going to host dinner this week. 

Regulus would coddle Harry, and everyone would beg him to hand Harry over and stop hogging him, you’re going to make him think you’re his favourite, he shouldn’t have favourites.

They had been adamant from day one, making promises (mainly for Regulus’ benefit) that they would never, ever let Harry doubt the pure adoration they held for him, he would grow up so loved and so happy that he would brighten up the world. 

His first Christmas had been extravagant, all four had gone all out to provide him with the best, leading to a pile of presents taller than the tree and an absurd amount of days out, decked in one of his many many winter sets. They had agreed to coordinate more, and reel in their excessive spending.

That hadn't happened, and now, three years later, Lily and Regulus were walking Harry around a Christmas fair…the third one they had been to this month.

“Be careful Harry, don’t go too far!” Lily called after him, laughing as he tried to run, the place too packed and his winter gear wrapped so thick he couldn’t get very far. Regulus smiled softly, watching with wary joy as Harry enjoyed every second, yet still cautious of him getting hurt.

Harry gasped suddenly, turning to them with his mouth open wide in shock, eyes pleading before he even pointed out where he wanted to go. He used a mittened hand to push his glasses up his nose, the other pointing to what had caught his attention.

“Can we do it, can we, can we!” He yelled, running and attaching himself to Regulus’ leg, waiting for him to pick him up. He obliged, holding him tightly as he attempted to swing off of him to hold Lily as well. Lily grabbed him too, keeping him from trying to throw himself to the ground. 

“I want to make a card, please!” Harry wiggled in their grip, so excited his whole face was split wide open in a grin that looked identical to James’.

“Of course we can, do you want to go now or wait and have some food first,” Regulus asks, readjusting his grip so he can straighten Harry’s hat with one hand. Harry hums, scrunching up his face as he tries to decide, 

“Cards first, food later,” He answers seriously with a solemn nod as if he had made an extremely difficult decision, causing both Lily and Regulus to laugh gently, sending Harry into fits of pleased giggles as they walk over to the card-making booth. 

They’re greeted by a bored-looking teenager, whose gaze lingers on Lily like she’s an angel in front of them, looking at her in awe, leaving Regulus to clear his throat quietly to gain their attention. He pays them, trying not to make them feel embarrassed that he noticed. 

“Mum, come help me hide it from Papa, he can’t see until I finish his.” Harry grabs his mother’s hand, leaning far forward and dragging her over to a small table in the corner of the tent. Regulus hovers, back turned to Harry so he can be sure Regulus isn’t peeking. 

“Okay, I’m done!” Harry claps his hands together, causing Lily to laugh and groan at him to be careful, then there's a small tug on the bottom of Regulus' coat,

“Papa, you can look now,” Regulus turns and looks at the card Harry holds out proudly, it's wonderful, although he might be biased, it’s the most beautiful card he’s ever seen. 

“Wow, you made this?” Regulus teases, pinching Harry’s cheek playfully as he kneels to be on the same level, holding one half of the card so he can look over it with his son. “It’s perfect, how lucky am I to have the greatest artist in the world make me a card!” Harry giggles and it fills his heart with joy. 

The card is covered in a thick layer of glitter, glitter glue, glitter paint, glitter pen and loose glitter depicting what he assumes is all of them on Christmas morning.

“Thank you, Harry, I'm going to put it up as soon as we get home, I love it,” He kisses Harry’s forehead and bops him on the nose “and I love you.”

Harry reaches up, no doubt getting glitter all over Regulus’’ jacket as he wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly in a way he clearly learnt from his mother. Regulus closes his eyes, taking in the moment silently before Harry’s little voice whispers in his ear

“Can you help me hide a card from Mum now?” Regulus laughs, getting up to block Lily’s view while Harry has the time of his life throwing every glittery product he can find on the card in front of him. Regulus is just glad Lily and Mary have Harry for the night and have to deal with the mess.

[duckiemimi]

trying to wrap my head around WHY gojo had to die but all i can think of is how the story literally came to a standstill when he was in the prison realm. how they all fought to get him out of the box bc he's the strongest, he's gojo satoru, he's their savior.

and then gege just threw in a 2 month time skip, a bland shonen fight scene (i stand by it being bland! throwing in fancy techniques =/= a strong fight scene. this fight was poor executed in that it lacked meaning on both sides. maybe if we saw megumi tear up or gojo react in some way to his students and megumi...) just to kill him off at the end.

what i don't get is why he had to come out of the box for that? the main characters developed really well when he was in the box, to the point where i thought we were going to get an all out fight with yuji, yuuta, maki, AND gojo against sukuna; this would've been a cool full circle moment with gojo's goal being accomplished before he died. then, he would've died knowing that he isn't the sole strongest.

(that's the kind of meaning geto was looking for too, i think)

but the way it's being done now, it feels like we're just gearing up for another gojo level up? (also who is kashimo i'm all for jjk's power system but WHEN will we get to see nobara's tomonari and yuuji's new cursed technique and even yuuta and his absolutely op copycat technique again???)

idk it feels like we're erasing the entire culling games arc and all the progress we made during it just to get to where we are now... gege please explain what are we thinking...

like? they spent multiple arcs trying to save him, thinking he’d be their savior, and it didn’t pay off at all 😭 there are effective ways to build up a tragic character storyline and a “you’re best is never enough” theme! this isn’t it! had the wait been shorter, and had we been given a couple panels of gojo and his thoughts in the prison realm, then maybe it would’ve worked, probably loosely. but even then, this is an event-based plot driven story that keeps moving forward and the trajectory gege set in the beginning doesn’t line up with where we’re at now. sure, the existential nature vs. nurture theme is still there (gege really wedged in that “are u strong, or strong are u?” question to salvage some consistency), but the development of everything we’ve watched bloom is thrown away for…what? a quintessential shounen fight to live up to other shounens? a “PEAK” battle that’s rushed?? gege used to be so good at drawing circles closed, but it’s been confusing loops these days.

(oh, and i viscerally feel you. many people praise the technicalities and powerscaling of this arc, but just like the recent writing, gege’s power system isn’t consistent. and even if it was completely consistent per character and per CT and understandable as a whole, fight scenes without “meat” to them lack story! i wanted see more characterization! i wanted to see that the battle went deeper than surface-level! fifteen chapters of cyclical back-and-forths with barely anything else to pay attention to is boring…if gege wanted to keep every reader engaged, he should’ve added sukuna’s characterization during his fight with gojo. and if he really wanted to land that tragic character storyline for gojo, he should’ve added more scenes of gojo’s introspection and inner-conflict, or at least a thought process we could follow. as it is now, ending him like that betrays the trajectory for growth gege set for him in the beginning.)

[hauntedppgpaints]

heru requested paul/matt first rut together. 644 words, sorry it cuts so abruptly, my brain suddenly stopped working when i got to that point. CW: age difference, omegaverse, could be seen as mildly dubious consent.

It's after a good practice when a pseudo rut hits.

Everyone is already showered and getting ready to pack up and head out, when Matthew hunches over with a quiet grunt. Scents and sounds become suddenly almost overwhelming- he can smell each and every teammate's scent, can identify everyone's secondary gender, and it's a lot. He keeps his eyes shut as he starts to do the breathing and focus exercises the trainers had taught him when his pheromones started going all whacky.

He loses track of time, and when he opens his eyes, the locker room is empty. Except for Paul.

Who is an omega. That Matthew is definitely into. But he's the head coach. But-

"You alright, Matthew?" Paul asks. His scent, normally muted due to age, is in full bloom right now, ripe and making Matthew's mouth water.

"Yeah," He pauses to wipe some drool about to fall out of his mouth. Gross. "Yeah, just. Dealing with some shit right now. Sorry if I smell gross." Matthew replies, shifting in his pants to try and give his hardening cock some breathing room.

Paul catches the move, and his scent is. Hm. Definitely interested.

“The, uh, medical staff didn’t give me any details about what you’re going through, but it’s not hard to smell that you’re going into rut-?” Paul sits a few stalls away, crossing his legs at the ankles and leaning back against the wall. Matthew looks him up and down, lingering on his coach’s long legs, before snapping back to attention. 

“Yeah-” His voice cracks. Lovely. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Yeah, my pheromones are out of whack, so I keep going into ‘pseudo-ruts’ while my body tries to ‘self-regulate’.” Heavy air quotes are used. “They explained more about it, but it went over my head. All I know is that I keep getting hard and it’s fucking-” He grunts as another wave of rut washes over him. He can feel his knot pulsing in his sweats, begging for a pussy, a hole, a hand, something. “- fucking annoying.” 

Paul’s scent is responding in kind. Sweet, cloying, attention-grabbing. An image flashes through Matthew’s head- his knot buried in Paul’s cunt, sweet slick dripping around it- and he shakes his head to get rid of it. 

“I can see how that would be really inconvenient.” Paul responds, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. The wave of ripe omega that comes from his spread legs makes Matthew almost choke on his spit.

“If you need help, I can c-”

“Please.”

Paul blinks, blinks again, and his eyes go half-lidded as a smile curls up his lips. 

“Please, Coach,”

Paul stands and approaches Matthew slowly enough to give the alpha enough time to say change his mind. “What are you begging for, Matthew?” He asks, using a single finger to tilt Matthew’s face up. “Use your words.”

A rumbling whine slips out of Matthew’s throat. “Please…” He squirms, cock aching. “Let me… let me rut against you… You smell so good…” He whispers, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply. Ripe older omega is all he smells, and he is in heaven. 

Paul scents him back, and trills. 

“Good boy.”

~

Paul almost has to scruff Matthew to get him into the showers. Matthew’s too busy burying his face into Paul’s neck to care where he pops his knot. 

“No, we are not doing this in the middle of the locker room. Get up, and come fuck me in the showers.” Paul barks, and Matthew stands up fast. 

They strip as they go, and within minutes, Matthew is sliding into Paul with a prolonged keen. He just stands there, shaking as the relief of being inside the omega nearly overwhelms him for a minute. Then Paul clenches around him, and his hindbrain kicks him into high gear.

[prettyboykatsuki]

☆ cw ;; dom!reader, overstim,  riding, praise, dirty talk, sub!todoroki a wee bit of cruelty, 18+ | wc ;; 766 | t.shouto x afab!reader

“Stop crying love, you’ll make your headache worse,” 

The most Todoroki can muster is a gentle hiccup. Seeing him like this is almost enough to make you feel bad. Not exactly enough but almost. His handsome face is all tear-stricken. Pale skin suddenly blooming in patchy blush tone. You learn that he especially gets red in his ears and nosebridge when you push him like this. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been a very merciful person, anyway. As much as you love Shouto, you don’t have the heart to let him off easy. That’s why you’re still sitting on his cock, so spent and soft and achy. You don’t remember where you last track of counting. 

You’ve hit your own personal stride though. Todoroki men make good personal sex toys and beloved Pro-Hero Shouto is no different. He’s cuter though. Less stubborn, more pliant, indefinitely the prettiest of the bunch. He reminds you of a flower, delicate and easily wilted. 

Of course you want to crush him in the palm of your hand. It’s only natural. He’s too cute for his own good, too sexy to not want to mess up. You bend your elbow, cupping his cheeks in your palm and making him look at you. For the longer part of your session - his head has been thrown back. Eyes closed, mouth open, desperate. 

A wave of electricity passes as you look at him. Really get a good look at his face. His lower lip shakes, and every gesture makes him twitch. Your thumb brushes under his cheek. 

“You’re still going,” — You say, squishing his cheeks together fondly — “You hate it that much?” 

He hics, dazed. You watch the gears turn in his empty head. Affection floods, as you roll your hip against his cock. Too much thinking might really break him. His body pinches under the feeling, a frazzled sound passing his lips. A mild panic as the blood rushes downstairs. 

“I don’t hate it,” He says with effort, averting his gaze. Then he shivers, shakes. His whole body trembles when he shakes his head no as if he needs to tell you. He’s somewhere far off. Always obedient “But n-nothing else can come out,” 

Something hot flames up in your chest. You can’t help but feel it bury it’s claws into you. It’s criminal what things he brings out of you. Why you’re still fucking onto his soft cock with greed, chasing another high - using him. He always reacts perfectly to being used. Apologetic, obedient, sweet. 

Hedonism is your greatest sin and he’s your favorite way to indulge in pleasure. You know yourself. You know him too, and you know there’s still enough left to squeeze.

“Nothing? Are you really sure?” — You say, pushing yourself down. His whole body lurches forward, a ragged sound erupting from his chest — “You’re getting hard again though,” 

“Because of y-you,” 

“Ohhh, I see. I make you hard?” You tease, rocking gently on his rapidly twitching cock. He whimpers. 

“Y-yes,” 

“We can’t leave it can we? That’ll hurt. You’ll be all pent up again baby,” 

His mouth is open in a soft whimper. Over and over you roll your hips and he throbs inside of you helplessly. The muscles in his thigh moving under neath you, his chest breathing unevenly. His eyes are foggy, obedient and eager and oh so sweet. 

“My pretty boy. No one is as good as you,” 

He flushes all over again, biting his lip in embarrassment. Busying himself in hiding his face in your neck as he whimpers a little silent thank you. 

“You get to fill me with your cum as many times as you like. It’s all for me, yeah? That’s why I have to do it like this,” 

He must be getting close again. You can hardly contain your excitement as you fuck on him a little faster. 

“Be a good boy and give me your cum, Shouto. Just one more. Don’t hold it, okay? Just one more,” 

He nods, so obedient and so eager to please you. He chokes on his own spit when it happens, eyes blown out wide as he surrender himself to the feeling of cumming all over again. He moves hard against his restraints, a quiet and a needy sob lingering in his mouth as something thin and clear shoots into you before dripping out. 

Giddy, you pick his face up to liter it with kisses. On his cheeks nose and face, his shoulder blades. In every place you can reach. 

“No one could ever compare, baby. Such a good boy,” 

[comfort-questing]

2. delirium

fevers were always higher at night. that was what he told himself, anyway, to comfort himself; surely this was the worst of it, and the morning would bring better. he didn't know what he'd do otherwise.

"who's there." the words were almost a sob, her cracked lips parting with each gasp, the sweat-soaked tousle of her fair hair strewn across the pillow. the bright fever blush on her cheeks picked out and revealed old scars, thinly shining on her skin. "I know - I know you're there somewhere, I - come out, cowards."

"there's nobody here but me, dear."

the thousandth time, it seemed, he'd reminded her of that. how they were in safety now, after the last hectic horrible days of battle and flight, and though the foes that seemed to haunt her dreams now had left their marks on her body, the castle walls and high gates would make sure they were nothing but memories for a while.

he leaned forward, elbows on knees, unused to the lightness of his shoulders without armor. unused, too, to the sight of her so helpless, her two long bright daggers lying sheathed now in the mess of their gear by the wall, the bloodied wreck of her own chain-mail and leather armor put aside.

her eyelids were open now, but her sight slipped from place to place in the strange room, uncomprehending. she tried to sit up, with a gasp of pain at the effort, reaching down with the familiar motion of seeking her weapons.

"by the door - there - I saw them. look, look, Llan, you'll see - "

he gritted his teeth, the ache of worry in his chest tightening, and got slowly to his feet, muscles stiff from long vigil. the candle flared as he raised it from the table, sweeping its glow throughout the room, showing rain-streaked window and half-open door to the corridor, low table and dirty armor and packs, dusty wooden carving along the ceiling beams.

"see?" his voice came small, past the lump in his throat. "I checked. we're safe. close - close your eyes, if you need to; I'm right here."

she shuddered again, fresh blood blooming on the bandages wrapping her shoulder, jostled free by her attempt to move. "but - they'll - "

"you trust me, don't you? please... just rest. you need to rest."

he hated to hold her still, but he did so nonetheless to try to soother her, gently pinning her good shoulder to the bed and wiping the dampened cloth across her flushed face and dry lips. she did not fight him, but looked up with eyes that seemed to stare right through him into the darkness beyond, and reached up with one hand to lace her fingers through his and grip tightly.

"Llan. you'll - keep me safe, won't you."

"yes. yes, I will."

that was a lie and a horrid lie; he hadn't, clearly enough, and that was why they were here, in a castle full of strangers, the wound-fever burning inexorably through her veins. but she smiled, anyway, and turned her face into the pillow.

"yes - you will."

[lamemaster]

Heartful of Love (Maedhros x Reader)

"How drunk are you?" Nelyafinwe asks as he watches you squint your eyes at a garden statue. He finds you in the gardens away from the ongoing party in the palace. Leaning awfully close to one of the statues made by Nerdanel.

"Shhh," you stumble as you turn to face him. Nelyafinwe almost reaches to untangle your feet from the train of your gown.

However, he is late as he watches you lose your balance and fall with your arms flailing wildly. Too fast even for his elven senses.

With a soft thud your face plants on his chest and he feels your warm breath even through the layers of his clothing. Even after decades of being married to you, he finds himself blushing like an immature ellon.

"Ai melda!" Your exclamation breaks his thoughts. Nelyo holds your arms as you swing back to look at him while rubbing your forehead with one hand. A droopy smile, flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and your intricate braids messed up Illuvatar knows how...

Yet, Maitimo can't help but sigh in adoration. He finds himself ever greater infatuated with his wife, even in her inebriated state. He loves you even when his brothers tease him about his puppy love, he loves you when you wake him with morning kisses, or when his seemingly frail wife, princess carries him to give the entirety of Tirion an aneurysm.

When it comes to you even the ever-uptight politician Nelyafinwe loses all his reason, pride, and logic. He loves foolishly, unrestrained by any norm or expectation.

So, when he watches you stand on your toes as you gesture for him to bend forward, for what he wishes is a kiss, turns to be a mock whisper that is loud enough to make his ears ring. Your alcohol-ridden brain is out of any sort of volume control.

"Moryo is awfully sulky today," you pseudo whisper as you suspiciously gaze back at the statue. "He has been awfully quiet so I gave him company."

Gears click into place as Maitimo looks at the very-not-Moryo statue. Nonetheless, his heart blooms with a fondness for an elleth who cares for his family as much as he does.

"Ah I see melda, that is awfully kind of you," he says as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms and you squeal as your world tilts. Hugging yourself closer to him you rest your head on his chest as Nelyo starts making his way to your home.

A sleepy yawn escapes your mouth as wish 'Moryo' a goodnight and urge him to return home as well. Maitimo chuckles and his heart feels full.

By the time he opens your bedroom door, he can already hear your soft snores and he watches your eyes now lost in dreams.

[diamondangelkitten]

Vierapril Day 6: Bloom

Apologies for the extremely long post that will be under the Keep Reading text. I had many thoughts for this one, but I kept coming back to an area of Stormblood that I really struggled with.

“In darkness blooms the spider lily.” Alira was sitting on a stone overlooking the One River below. Yotsuyu’s death had only happened hours ago, coupled with Alphinaud’s departure, yet everyone seemed to be celebrating what they thought to be a victory. Alira’s heart ached at what Yotsuyu had gone through and how Doma cared little for the part it played in turning her into Tsukuyomi. She felt a presence join her on the rock and she cast her eyes to see Aurora by her. She raised her brow, assuming the Au Ra was going to speak, but instead Aurora just kept quiet. After a few moments of silence, Alira turned back to the One River, heart and mind lost in contemplation.

Suddenly, a yol sends up a cry of alarm, and Annabeth and Gosetsu are seen running towards the two of them, carrying what appears to be a long black lump. “That better not be what I think it is!” Alira jumps up and yells. They put the package down gently before Gosetsu leans forward and puts his hands on his knees, panting, “Let your comrade explain. It was my plan.” Annabeth brushes her hair back out of her face, “Listen the people of Doma were getting way too rowdy and drunk. They wanted to celebrate the Witch of Doma being dead by parading her body around. Can you f***ing believe that?!” Annabeth starts pacing and swearing in a tongue that none of them know. Alira looks down at Aurora and sees how hard her face is too. “None of us hated her, did we?” Alira asks, before wrapping Aurora in a hug. Gosetsu sits down, “I did. Once upon a time, but she had a blank page. She had a chance. Why Kami?” He starts crying, and Annabeth goes and places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry Gotsetsu, but your people failed her.” “I know,” he cries. A teleportation sound alerts them, but only Alinea pops through.

“Thanks for teaching me how to follow people Aurora.” Aurora nods before asking, “So why are you only here now?” “Oh, yes, that. I uh, may have lead Hien and Yugiri on an extremely wild and elaborate goose chase trying to figure who stole her body, out of the many, many people who wanted her dead.” Alinea’s rolling her eyes now. “Sorry Gotsetsu, but I hate Hien. When he done nothing to the man who knew and enforced Yotsuyu’s past.” She shakes her head in anger. “I know.”

Alira is glad this group could come together, but they really needed to deal with the elephant in the room. “So, considering we are the body snatchers, what do we plan on doing with her?” Alinea starts to ask. “You didn’t tell her?” Alinea asks in disbelief. Annabeth shakes her head, “Not yet.” She turns to Alira, “We’re giving her a burial. A proper one. Gosetsu will perform the rites observed here and we will make sure that she gets the proper send off, acknowledging who she was, all of her.” Alira smiles before running to Annabeth and hugging her, “Thank you!! Please tell me one of you brought shovels.” Alinea laughs and drops her gear bag. “Here we go. Alira, since you’ve been here a while, know any nice views?” Alira nods, “I do.”

Upon a cliff overlooking the One River, they bury Yotsuyu under a persimmon tree. Gosetsu performs the Far Eastern rites and Alira says a prayer for her. She’s never been particularly religious, but she hopes that Yotsuyu can finally find the peace she deserves. In another timeline, she could have easily been another Witch of Doma, but she chose her line of work. Chose to use her body to get paid and then to get information. She didn’t mind doing the dirty work and taking care of the bad people in the world. Yes, she had a lot of anger to her upbringing, but she knew she was this dark from a child. Twisted and turned by the world into this, but Yotsuyu, she never wanted this, but she became an asset to Zenos that no one could deny.

Annabeth takes a glance at Alira. The others knew how much Alira saw herself in Yotsuyu and they could all understand Yotsuyu’s reasoning. Seeing her transform into a primal had broken something in Annabeth. For so long, she had tried to protect those she cared about; her brother, her younger siblings, and now these three girls who she saw as sisters. Now one of them had seen what could have been their own path and they had to be the ones to strike her down. She knows there’s nothing she could have done, but she still thinks maybe she should have stood up more to Asahi being allowed access to Yotsuyu, should have noticed that something was off with her sooner, anything! Instead, they were too late. 

Eventually Aurora speaks, a small smile in her voice, “At least we don’t have to deal with Asahi anymore?” “Hm,” is all Alira replies. “Good riddance,” Alinea says, “I don’t think I could have looked at him one more time without killing him myself.” They all turn to look at her, “What? Oh come on, we were all thinking it. Stupid, smug little bastard.” Alira starts laughing and laughing, “F***ing bastard.”

Eventually the group breaks into smiles and laughs, and recount the stories of Tsuyu that they had had in recent days. Gosetsu even tells of some of her exploits as the Witch of Doma and the girls all act rather impressed. He feels he should be concerned by it, but he understands that there’s an act of solidarity at work here, and he walks a fine line. Eventually he leaves the group and the girls remain for a while longer. “To Tsukuyomi, perhaps the most beautiful primal we’ve ever fought,” Alira toasts. “Sri Lakshmi wasn’t bad either,” Aurora quips. “True.” Alinea shakes her head at them smiling, “Annabeth, Alira? There were some remnants of her robes left at the Castrum. They seem to still have some of her magic imbued in them but not in any dangerous level. Want to see what you can make with them?” Annabeth nods gratefully, already imagining imbuing it into her gunblade. Alira nods as well, and takes the piece of fabric, clutching it to her heart. “Thank you, all of you. I know I’m not easy to deal with, and that likely won’t change, but you do mean a great deal to me. I know that if I die, I will be remembered for who I was, like we were able to do for Yotsuyu.” Aurora looks at her, “If you die at any time before old age, I will res your butt and make sure you never, ever hear the end of it.” Alira laughs, holding Aurora close, “Whatever you say.” The girls get up and say their farewells to Yotsuyu and Tsukuyomi. When Hien sees them in a few days time, he makes sure not to comment on Annabeth’s new gunblade design, or the Spider Lily that Alira wears in her hair, nor the glowing fan that she keeps in her belt.