#the way i'm dressing right now is so that people think i'm MAYBE a ghost when i walk my dog at night

[lazylittledragon]

i very rarely put my hair up but i was having several moments today

[captain-mj]

GhostGaz but like, okay listen

when fics/art do the thing where one is naked and the other is in a suit and tie, I go rabid. Especially when the one dressed up keeps their clothes on when they fuck

Not raunchy, but still :3

Went to twitter and searched this ship up like I do with all ships I'm writing for the first time right? And... wow almost everything was poly141 stuff and not like... actual GhostGaz?? I'd be happy to feed the starving masses

Ghost hated dressed up. It was dumb and he only did it when Price forced him to. Despite all of his protesting for this particular event, he still had to wear it.

Obviously the mask was still on, but he had a suit and tie on. Signature black with a red shirt instead of white. He ran his naked fingers along the fabric to straighten it.

Someone knocked on his door to alert him that he needed to get moving and he gritted his teeth, trying not to curse. He was frustrated, but not quite angry enough to take it out on the random person Price sent to pass along the message. "I'll be right out."

There was no real response but Ghost could see a shadow at his door, so whoever it was, they were lingering. He opened the door to see Sergeant Garrick looking up at him.

Gaz was at just the right height that he had to tilt his head to look at. He looked startled that Ghost had opened the door so suddenly and blinked a bit like an owl at him.

"Sergeant."

"You look good in that suit, sir." Gaz said it plainly and simply. Like it was no big deal.

Ghost felt a bit of heat in his face, but he ignored it. "Thank you, Garrick. Now move."

That should've been it. He expected that to be all there was to it at the very least.

But throughout the entire... party? It was basically a meet up for a few higher ups who usually brought their spouses (and on one horrible occasion, a mistress which Ghost immediately reported to his wife) to talk. A glorified military ball in his opinion.

Anyway, Gaz stared. A lot. He wasn't shy about it. His eyes wandering up and down his body in a way that was horribly objectifying.

Normally, Ghost wring anyone's neck who did that and maybe throw in some threats to put him in the infirmary if he didn't stop staring. But this was Kyle. And Ghost always found it hard to stay mad at him. Never could quite put his finger on it, but most people had that problem.

Ghost eventually just stared back, even letting his eyes wander.

Kyle Gaz Garrick was a pretty man. No doubt about that. He had a beautiful smile, long eyelashes, and could be cold, even vicious if the situation called for it. Also, the long legs he had? The hips? Now that Ghost was really looking, he could pretty easily imagine picking him up and setting him on the counter. Finding out if his skin bruised easy like a peach or if he'd have to work at it.

Ghost regained eye contact and Gaz grinned. Those fangs of his exposed.

"Captain. Have I been here long enough?"

Price smiled at him. "Yeah, you can go ahead and head out."

Gaz flashed a more persuasive smile. "Me too, sir?"

"Sure, Kyle." Price smiled at him and then patted Simon on his shoulder.

Ghost kept a steady pace and sure enough, Gaz was right next to him. "I think you look good in that suit too, Kyle."

"Thank you, Ghost."

"Do you look better out of it?"

Gaz stumbled and used Ghost's arm to steady himself. Ghost wasn't sure how real that was, but it was convincing enough. "Want to find out, sir?"

"You can call me Simon." Ghost yanked him along. "My bedroom."

He didn't miss the victorious little grin Gaz got at that. "Will you keep the suit on?"

"I was planning on it, trust me."

They stumbled into the room and Gaz grabbed the edge of his mask. He paused and looked at him. "Just want to kiss you. Don't have to go further."

"Take it off, Kyle."

Gaz didn't hesitate. Before the mask even hit the floor, Gaz was kissing him breathless. He nibbled on his lips and pressed against his chest.

Ghost did what he thought of in the ballroom. He picked him up, marveling a little at how easy it was to do. He set him on the dresser and started to get rid of his suit.

Gaz was a work of art. Even with his shirt only unbuttoned. Toned, warm skin. Unlike Ghost, he hadn't had a chance to get a bunch of scars yet, but there were a few. A bullet graze here. Small cut there. His mouth quickly found them, licking over them and marking over them. He fought to get the shirt off his shoulders so he could get to more.

“Fucking hell, Simon. I won’t run away.”

“Better not. I’d just chase you down.”

Gaz groaned. “Hot. I think i could get away from you.”

Ghost huffed at him. “Like to see you try.” He bit into the soft flesh of his shoulder, enjoying the softness. Gaz’s pressed his thigh against Ghost’s reaction and he rutted against him immediately.

Ghost pulled off Gaz's pants and grabbed his thighs. Thick and soft, perfect for him to sink his fingers into. He picked Gaz back up and carried him to bed this time.

Gaz laid down on his bed, looking absolutely beautiful in his sheets. His hard cock sat on his stomach and leaked precum all over abs. Ghost grabbed some lube and coated two of his fingers. "You still okay with this?"

Gaz grinned, all sharp and pretty. "Yes, Simon. I am. I'll tell you if you need to stop, okay?" He reassured him, currently running his ankle over Ghost's still clothed side. "Fuck you look good in a suit."

Ghost blushed and Gaz immediately noticed, looking suddenly more smug than before. "You're hot usually. Very commanding. But something about the suit being added..." He bit his lip and Ghost plunged his fingers in to him to shut him up before he said something stupid.

Ghost was never much of a talker and this was no different. Instead, he listened to all the little noises he let out, relished each gasp and moan and whine. His mouth found his nipple and he licked over, enjoying how it made him squirm. His fingers moved almost robotically. Plunging in and out. In and out. Staying the exact same pace as they worked incredibly tight walls open.

His cock was straining against his suit pants now as he pushed in deeper. He eventually pushed a third finger in, reveling in the sweet stretch and the even sweeter whimper it got.

Gaz panted softly. "Alright, you've done your job now get to the main event."

"Don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"i'm a big boy, I'll be fine." Gaz reached down and unzipped his pants, eagerly pulling out his cock. "I see you're a big boy too."

Ghost scoffed at him and pushed him back down. He pulled him to the edge of the bed and lined himself up with one hand and kept a tight hold of Gaz's ankle with the other. Despite Gaz's teasing, he took it slow. He was so tight. Soft and inviting, but he had to work for it.

Gaz bit his lip hard and tried to wrap his legs around his waist. "Simon." He raised his hips to make it a little easier.

Ghost bottomed out and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to pull out. Gaz clenched around him erratically as he tried to get used to how much he was being stretched and it was doing something to his brain chemistry. Scrambling something fundamental until the only thing he could think of was how good this felt.

How was he going to survive meetings with him? Hearing him speak? The entire time knowing he was the best fuck he had ever had and they had barely gotten started.

After a moment, Ghost rolled his hips nice and easy. Gaz's eyes rolled back and he realized he was pressed right against his prostate. He took advantage, pulling out just a little and thrusting back in hard, getting a proper moan out of Gaz.

"I'm going to ruin you, Garrick." Ghost promised before starting to pound into him. He probably should've waited a little longer, made sure that Gaz was adjusted, but Gaz clawed at his shoulders and begged for him to keep going so it couldn't be that bad of a decision. His blunt nails couldn't get through the fabric but it felt good to feel how desperate he made him.

They kissed again and he bent Gaz almost in half, pushing him until he thought it would hurt but Gaz didn't seem bothered at all. He clenched with every thrust, begging Ghost to be as rough as he wanted.

Ghost bit his throat hard. He tasted blood for a moment.

Gaz's begging changed. "I'm going to come, fuck, so close." He clawed at his back, only succeeding in yanking his shirt up.

Ghost lifted up and kissed him again. Gaz bit Ghost's lip when he came and his legs went from simply wrapped around him to being a death grip, pushing him deeper inside. Ghost finished only moments after he did, panting softly.

Gaz kissed his cheek. "Is the suit yours?"

"Yeah."

"Ask me over any time you feel like trying it on."

[tonixe]

a/n: Where is the Luke Riordan fanfic?? Like I was shocked cuz where is my sexy flame boy, like come on, you guys are ghosting me with this shit like please more Luke fanfic.

warning: drugs, smut, p in the v, penetrating, protection used, orgasm, hookup implied, protection used, party sex, alcohol mention, some cheating, maybe a rebound (?). *Luke and Cate did break up, so luke baby is alive 💓💗💞.

pairing: Luke Riordan x fem!reader

word counter: 2.2k

Parties weren't my thing, well I would to some of them if my friends asked or were going, but I would be probably just drinking something or on my phone scrolling on my Instagram feed. But, for right now I was dressing up for it, and one of my friends was going. She was pretty popular around campus, she was blonde pretty, with nice brown eyes. Her name was Harper.

I was at my vanity fixing my top, it was a Halloween party. Fixing the top, adjusting the strings, tightening it up. It was a little too tight, looking at the mirror. My bosom was almost spilling out, rubbing my sides. I was thinking of doing some costumes from Legally Blonde. You know when Elle gets tricked into wearing a costume to some party. I was already in the hot pink tights, just missing some bunny ears. I dust some light blush on my cheeks, eyeliner, and some gloss, and put my hair in a half down and half up.

I had some pink high heels in my closet to wear, checking the time it was about 7:50 pm, the party started at 8 and probably would last until the morning hours of 2 or 3 am. I applied some mascara onto my lashes, looking at the mirror and the compact mirror in my hand.

I put my bunny ears on my head, brushed the sides of my hair, and put some red lipstick and some gloss on top. Looking into the mirror, as I tried to pose to be more confident for the party. Harper and I were going to match in some type of way, she was going to be some Playboy costume, so we would have the same bunny aesthetic. Was it too much, I stood up and spun around in my mirror. I didn't want to be a Debbie Downer and change, so I was going to wear it. I walked into my closet, taking out a long pink fluffy jacket to match my outfit, and wearing my heels. Standing a bit taller, it was a lot. I felt some buzzing from my phone, opening it and looking through messages.

Harper: Y/N, I'm at my car right now, you almost done with your costume. - sent

Y/N: Yeah, I'm done, im going to be down in 2 minutes - sent

Harper: Alright - sent

...

I zipped up my jacket, got my dorm keys and my ID into my bag, put it on my shoulder as I opened the door, and walked out. A few people were outside, studying for a bit. I felt a little naked in this costume, crossing my fingers that it wasn't cold outside. I went down the stairs to the Polarity statue, where Harper was sitting in my car, waiting. "Harper!" I yelled, she got off of her phone, and exclaimed back, smiling. "Omg, you actually wore it" She looked at me, "Yeah, It's a little tight but It looks good right," I said

"Of course" She smiled, and to her promise, she was wearing a Playboy costume hers was tighter than mine and revealed more skin, but that was Harper's nature. "Come on, let's go!" She pulled me by my hands and we got into her car and drove off. I was hoping we could get into our dorms without getting into too much trouble. The drive wasn't long, about 20 minutes and we were there at the party. Some sororities house, some red solo cups on the grass, some people already outside making out and whatnot, "Come on, Y/N, don't just stand there" She exclaimed, taking my hand and we walked into the house.

I knew, almost like I predicted it. It smelt like liquor, perfume, sweat, and a bunch of other smells, some people in their costumes, some of the seven, some of Marvel or D.C. superheroes, and others from some horror movies. I turned to my side and Harper was already gone, 'Fuck' I whispered, before walking to some bar in the kitchen and sitting down on the stools. There was a bartender there serving some drinks as people danced away. "Can I get a piña colada?" I asked before the worker left to make the drink, I looked at the dance floor. Bodies rubbed on bodies, it was a scene I guess. Looked like everyone was enjoying themselves except me, but it was just the usual. Hearing the glass on the table, I took it and drank it whole, sitting myself as I listened to my thoughts.

I heard a glass colliding with the wooden counter of the bar and looked to the side to see someone familiar. It would be weird to stare, wouldn't it, but I wore it was someone you knew or saw before.

I tried to peep again but failed to see anything else on the person's face. This was awkward, very awkward. Before I heard the person talk up, "So, what are you doing here?" He asked, looking directly at me.

'Holy Shit' it was Luke, Luke Riordan like the guy who is like the number one. Golden Boy, Golden Boy himself is talking to me, breathing right next to me literally speaking to me. I had a mini fangirl session before I snapped out of it and answered him back, "A friend asked, and I agree, so that's why I'm here" I smiled at him. "Nice costume" my cheek heated up realizing he was looking at me, "I'm Ellie Woods, from legally blonde" I replied, "-And your ghostface, nice" I looked at him, "So..where's your mask?" I tilted my head, "On my belt, just in case" His smile made me have chills down my core.

He looked perfect even in the hot, sweaty environment we were in. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't even do anything. I felt my core getting hotter and my legs getting stickier.

"What's your name?" He asked, "Y/N and I already know you, your Luke right?" I hoped to not sound creepy, that I already knew him. "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Your really well known, I guess I just picked up on you. You do know your are really easy on the eyes" I tried to flirt with him.

"Hey!" I looked at him, as the bartender came to him, as he ordered something, "Two shots of tequila" Before the bartender poured them out of the clear bottle. As the bartender slid them onto the counter to him, before he offered one to you. "Shots?" He asked, "Hell yeah" I took the shot and gulped it down, as the liquid burned down my throat to my chest, "Fuck that's strong" I heard him groaning out, it made me feel hot. But you knew that you couldn't do it at all, he had a girlfriend.

You weren't an asshole to break up someone's relationship for something petty like a sexual conquest. "Um, why did you really come here to talk to me.." I spoke out, biting my lip. "I thought you were cute" My heart started beating up faster, "Don't you have a girlfriend?" I bit my lip, "Oh, me and Cate..we broke up, she cheated on me with my best friend, pretty shitty isn't it?" He sipped more of the drink, he ordered in his glass cup. "Oh, gosh...I'm so sorry" That was a pretty shitty way to get broken up with, but at least I didn't have the guilt of being a home wrecker.

"I know," He said, rubbing his temples. The scene was awkward, I didn't want to pity him any further, but I was oddly turned on by this. But you didn't want to throw an opportunity away. It would be one in a chance.

"Do you want to feel better, I know a way" I placed his hand on his upper knee, tilting my head, suggestively. I guessed he got the message before I took his hand, and followed me into a random room. I really didn't know my way through the house but I was able to find a free room.

I pushed him onto the bed. I closed the door behind me, before getting on top of him, hooking my hands on his shoulder, and placing my lips on him. I felt his hands on my side, moving lower down to dangerous parts of me. Grinding down on his growing erection, Withdrawing away from the kiss. "Woah" I smiled at his reaction, "How was it" I cocked my head at him, rubbing down at him.

"That was fucking awesome" I pinched his cheek, "Your adorable" I smirk. He rubbed my ass down to my upper thighs. I felt his hands warming up under my tights.

I took my hands off of his shoulder, before losing off the corset that held me in its confined. I felt relief from taking it off, throwing my corset top somewhere else. His eyes darted to my chest, "Like them?" pressing them together, I felt myself getting wetter as he looked at me. Before I felt him flipping me over, feeling my back hitting the bed. My legs crossed each other as I held them up. I turned my head to the side, looking at him, opening my legs.

"Are you hard right now?" I teased, feeling some heart from his hands, melting away my tights. Before I felt him rip them off my legs. The flimsy fabric was ruined, "You ruined them" I faked my sad expression, "I'll replace them" he rubbed the upper parts of my thighs, taking my panties off of me. His hands stretch the lips of cunt, making me moan out. "S-stop, it's embarrassing" I turned my head away from the scene, "Fuck your soaked" He spread me apart, and his fingers slid into me, moaning on impact.

My legs trembling from the intrusion. His fingers curled into me, making me bend back, my hands gripping the sheets, his fingers thrusting into me in a rough motion, "FUCK!" I cried, my chest rising up and down. "Your sensitive, aren't you" He was staring at me, analyzing what I did, making me squeeze down on his finger, making him groan, "Shit, I'm sorry" Before he took his fingers, some clear slick. He licked his fingers clean, I didn't know if this was even real. Luke Riordan literally fingering me and licking my juices. I propped myself on my elbows before looking up at Luke taking off his pants.

His dick leaning onto his stomach, standing up. "Holy Shit" I muttered, it had a red tip and pre-cum leaking out of the tip, and it was bigger than you thought. I felt his hand on my ankle dragging me onto the edge of the bed, spreading my legs apart. "L-luke" I moaned, He had a condom in his hand, taking it out of the golden package, "W-wait, let me put it on" He placed it in my hand. I place it on my lips before taking the shaft and using my mouth to put the condom on.

I leaned back putting my legs up, as he put his hand on my thighs and slid himself into me, I moaned out. His dick abusing my cunt. Tightening against his cock. I heard him groan, The friction made me feel wetter. His hand on my waist, his dick stuffing me full, his hips snapping into me. His hands cupped my chest, playing with them. I felt his mouth on my peaks, making me bend. "Luke" I moaned.

I turned my head to the side, flickering my eyes away from him. My chest heaving, my body is feeling hot, and feeling sticker. I felt his hand roaming on my body, flicking my nipples, making me shiver in pleasure. His hands moved my body to the side, as he lifted my legs onto his shoulder, thrusting into me. Feeling him reaching a deep side of me, I flickered my eyes at him. I felt my abdomen feeling hot and bubbling, tightening against him before he groaned. "Luke..I'm close" I wailed, "Fuck, I'm close too" He rubbed my waist, making me mewl out.

I felt a wave crash down on my body, as I moaned out, gripping down on the sheets. His pace slowed down as he plunged into me, making me twitch. His pelvis collided with mine, as he thrust in, before releasing his load. Before he pulled out of me, before typing it up and throwing away the used condoms.

I was tired and sweaty. I put my hand over my eyes, trying to hide from him. I really didn't realize that it really did happen. Having sex with Luke actually did happen.

Leaning up on your elbows, "You okay" I turned my head at Luke, sitting on the side of the bed. He was still half naked, "Yeah.." I laid back down, "Could I hug you?" He asked, "Um, sure.." I felt the bed dip as he crawled towards me and his arms around my waist, leading to the side of my stomach. It was a little awkward but wholesome, I didn't know what to do but I rubbed his head. It lasted for a few minutes before I closed my eyes and slept off.

[nectardaddy]

dirty dancing - higuruma hiromi

cw: MDNI, highly (and I mean highly) suggestive, talk of sex, teasing/suggestive banter, dirty dancing, mild degradation [use of the word "whore" at reader], pet names [honey, baby], drinking, drunkenness, language, she/her (ma'am is used once), reader calls him an old man but there's not an age gap

notes: minors if you interact with this AT ALL you're getting blocked on sight, established relationship, written in the lens of him so it's a bit bitter, maybe a bit ooc? but he's drunk so I'll use that as an excuse, lmk if I missed any warnings

Higuruma much prefered bars over clubs, no longer a fan of the drunk antics that came along with the sleazy aesthetic. Being a bit older, and a bit wiser, he had sense enough to tell you no when you asked if he'd rather frequent a club.

But all it took for him to cave was a sickly sweet "please" and to gaze at him lovingly, batting your pretty eyes as you looked up at him. Finding himself eating his words once you dressed yourself in practically nothing, all for the sake of going out. Good god why did he say yes?

It took all but his very will to let you out of the house like that, better yet a venue where the whole point was to garner a few looks amongst the sea of people who danced. Thinking to himself, you'd get more than just a few, he'd have to all but cover you the entire night - he'd be damned if anyone dared to look you over.

He stayed at the bar majority of the night, allowing you to do god knows with friends you had met up with throughout. Nursing a whiskey and sighing like this was his last stand, he was a little too old to be occupying places like this. Sure, there were people well over his age patronizing the club; but this, truly, was not his forte anymore.

Cheeks already dusted pink, and his mind swimming gently, he rolled his eyes as he set his empty glass back on the bar. 'All for the sake of you having fun,' he thought. The music was too loud and shitty, at best, and those who sat next to him were sloshed and obnoxious. Why did he say yes?

Dark eyes met with your own as he watched you make your way towards him, laughing and stumbling as you were too drunk for your own good. Lights dancing off your skin, a ghost of a smile etched on his features. 'As long as you're having fun.'

But his eyes went wide as he felt your fingers grab at his tie and pull, seeing the playful glint in your eyes made him swallow hard. In that moment he realized you had every capability of completely breaking him. "Come on, old man," your speech slurred from the amount of alcohol you had. "You look pitiful just sitting there, I honestly feel bad for you."

"I'm a charity case now?" He questioned, all the while allowing you to pull him along. He was a wholeheartedly, down right, whipped bastard for you. Letting you pull him along, by his tie of all things, like a love struck puppy, through a sea of people.

"No," you reassured with a laugh. "You're my project." Voice loud from the music and people around, he felt his jaw tighten at your words. Hand still wrapped around the black fabric of the tie, you pulled down, forcing him to your level with a smirk. Dear god you were going to be the death of him. "I'm going to make you have fun," you mused. "You're going to dance with me - and you're going to love it."

He'd be lying if he said your words didn't scratch an itch in his brain, "yes ma'am." Letting just a touch of sarcasm grace his statement as it fell from his lips. He certainly knew dancing in a place like this was far from modest, borderline erotic as his eyes scanned his surroundings before returning to you. You were going to drive him mad, out right corrupt him where he stood.

While he knew it would be scandalous, this was point blank debauchery.

Slender fingers digging into the fabric covered skin of your hips as you, shamelessly, grinded against his crotch. His brain short circuited and his mouth went dry, he couldn't think a single coherent thought as your ass against his hips was all consuming. He could have sworn the last of his whiskey hit him right then and then, that was the only compelling reason, for him at least, to his actions.

"You're doing this on purpose," a sinful whisper in your ear, being so close he could feel every inch of you. The satisfying shudder your body felt from his words alone was enough to have him continue. "Honey, if you wanted to fuck, you could've just said that," he mused. "You didn't have to come out here to dance like a whore."

"Where's the fun in that, baby?" You asked rhetorically. Unfortunately for him, you turned, the delicious feeling completely ceased as you faced him. Looking into your eyes, the playful glint had turned - a warped desire taking its place as you gazed up at him. Hard pressed against him, the swarm of people around making the distance between practically non existent. He all but completely lost it.

"Tell your friends we're leaving," a quick statement, with a passionate force behind it that made you weak at the knees. Tired eyes now filled with lust and determination, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat. "If you want to dance like a whore, I'll treat you like one."

I haven't written anything this suggestive in a hot minute so I hope I tagged everything oof. Eat it up!

[osleeplessflowero]

-🎃Scares and a Sudden Friendship🪓-

yes i am aware it is no longer halloween and it is now december. after this oneshot i will exclusively focus on winter themes, but i just HAD to get this idea out. Horror belongs to Sour Apple Studios. Reader goes by They/Them pronouns as always. 🧡 Warning for swearing! Horror goes by Sans here since this is in a Horrortale Post-Pacifist exclusive timeline.

It's a cold Halloween night.

You and your boyfriend decided to go to a Haunted House for the occasion after you finally managed to pester him enough.

"C'mon, c'mon! Hurry up!" You walk hurriedly along the sidewalk in your shark onesie, spotting the closest Haunted House that's covered in decorations, lights, and signs. Your boyfriend following slowly behind.

"I'm coming, jeez. I don't get why you get so excited over all this. We're grown now. This is kid stuff." He looks bored, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn't even dress up for the occasion, just wearing his normal fall clothes to keep warm.

"Hey, Halloween is fun for all ages." You point at him accusingly. "Besides, we can finally have some fun together tonight! You've been so busy doing your own stuff and I've missed you a lot, so this is a perfect chance to-"

"Yeah yeah..let's just get this over with. Maybe if we're lucky we can get some candy little kids dropped." He stomps on some old wrappers. Jeez..such a buzzkill. Oh well, he won't ruin your fun in here! You're sure his mood will turn around once you both get inside.

You both reach the entrance, you practically bouncing with excitement while your boyfriend seems to be distracted by some of the scare actors passing by.

You're both eventually let in after signing a slightly concerning waiver, walking inside. You admire the decorations and care put into the environments, occasionally having little jumps when animatronics pop out at you which just results in laughter afterwards. Your boyfriend on the other hand looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, rolling his eyes at some of the scares and pulling out his phone at one point.

Truth be told, the last few months haven't been..ideal with him. You've hardly had any time together and when you finally do he just ignores you or seems like he doesn't want to be there. You've started to wonder if he even really wants to be your partner anymore..

You shake your head. Now is not the right place to be thinking about that. You should be having fun!

You greet some of the scare actors, having more fun than fear. You assume this is what happens to most people with Bravery souls. There's a large variety of them, some monsters, some humans. All of them doing a very good job!

You both make your way through an escape room section, you doing most of the work. You finally find the key, unlocking the door.

"Here we gooo, next room, woo!" "Yaaay."

The next room you enter is filled with props like mannequins and hanging objects that are meant to look like ghosts.

You cling to your boyfriend's arm, feeling unsettled as you both progress. He actually seems to tense up this time as well, looking around. It's quiet in the room..you feel a chill go down your spine.

You make your way down a small hallway that leads into the next area, jolting when a tall monster jumps out at you both with a fake hatchet. You jump back, your boyfriend screams, pushes you aside and..runs off. Without you.

You stare in the direction he ran off in, eyes wide in disbelief.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" You put your hands on your head, feeling tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes.

He just..left you.

He ran off without you in a scary unfamiliar location.

He abandoned you.

You try to hold back your tears when a bony hand rests on your shoulder. You look up to see the scare actor lifting up his mask, revealing eyelights with one empty and the other having a bright red circle in it, focusing on you.

"...don't waste your tears over that guy. 's okay." His voice is deep, a comforting sound to hear in a way. It's oddly soft despite his sharp appearance. You try not to look at that large cracked hole in his head. He probably appreciates that.

He raises up the other hand, wiping your tears away.

"I am so breaking up with him." "yikes. that guy's your boyfriend? some partner, leaving your datemate in an unfamiliar place alone." "Not anymore. I'm dumping him." "good call." "..Could you maybe..show me where the exit is? I don't really have the drive to go through here all by myself." You hold your arm shyly.

"i'll do you one better." He holds out his prop hatchet, handing it to you.

You look at it then at him, raising a brow.

"let's go scare the shit out of him."

You grin wide, taking the hatchet from him as he goes to pull his mask back down.

The two of you run out of the room and the moment you spot him you start SPRINTING, the skeleton following close behind.

The moment he finds the exit the two of you burst out laughing, taking a few seconds to compose yourselves.

"So..I'm gonna be removing his number from my phone..any chance I could have yours, stranger?" You point finger guns at him.

He seems surprised for a moment, before simply lifting his mask back up and smiling.

"just call me sans. nice to meet'cha." He gives you his number and you make sure to save it. "You too, Sans. Would you like to..I dunno, go get coffee or something? I'd like to get to know you." "i wouldn't mind. how does tomorrow sound?" "Great."

The two of you smile at each other before Sans' boss tells him to get back to work, and you wave goodbye before sending a text to your boyfriend to tell him you want to talk.

Part 2

[miniwheat77]

Sweet. (Captain Price x Reader)

!NSFW, Smut, Fingering, Roofies, Oral Sex (fem recieving), unprotected p in v sex !MINORS DNI! Edited!

*added p in v sex part*

When you were recommended for 141, nobody really seen why.

Captain Price didn't think you were all that special, none of the others did either. But nonetheless, he decided to give you a chance. He was a little hard on you for awhile, pushing you during training, being a little rough when it came to talking to you, and his punishments were even worse. He was very difficult and you didn’t understand why he seemed so passive to everyone except for you.

You hated being apart of 141, it was the worst thing Laswell had ever recommended. You thought maybe Captain Price hated you because you were young. He seemed to have the mentality that the military wasn't meant for young adults. Which, truth be told. It probably wasn't. But it was the only means of escape you had.

"This mission is different." Captain Price makes his way inside the conference room. Stacks of papers in his hands. "And I think this is the perfect time, we see what Y/N's got." he smirks. This clearly wasn't an important mission. Otherwise he wouldn't have you on it. Because for some reason, he hated you. "This is a capture only mission. Y/N will lead the way." He smiles.

—

A sigh falls from your lips. "You know. I'm a little annoyed that I got roped into this. I had intentions of someone else doing it." You complain. Captain Price chuckles. Sitting next to you in the limousine. "Well, sweetheart. You happen to be the only female around. Besides, you never said how you'll get him to tell you anything or how you'll capture him." He smirks. "I have a plan. Just trust me." He nods his head. He's wearing a suit and you have on the tightest black dress known to man. Tall black heels and your hair and makeup is done to the best of your ability. Something Captain Price hadn't ever seen before.

"Follow my lead." You mutter. He follows you up through the front doors of the penthouse, very similar to the one you'd captured Valeria in. It's full of people dressed to perfection. There's a huge dance floor surrounded by tables. The both of you make your way inside, sitting at the bar.

For the next hour, it's the both of you trying to blend into this party, even going as far to dance with one another on the dance floor.

"I have eyes." You whisper to John on the dance floor. He spins you around, your back pressed up against him, his mouth right next to your ear. "I see him too, you ready for this ah?" he smirks. "Oh yeah." His hips brush up against yours and he closes his eyes for a second.

It doesn't take much for you to get your targets attention. Sitting a few stools down from him at the bar. "Whatever you do, do not let me be in a room alone with him for too long. No more than 5 minutes if you have no eyes." You mumble into the radio.

"Copy." John says, he's a little confused by how crucial you've made it sound. The man sits down in the stool next to you and begins talking to you. It doesn't take long until he's wanting to get into a room upstairs with you. You sweet talk him the entire time. You get into the elevator with him, nervous the entire time. "Eyes." Ghost says into the radio, a sense of relief going over John. He had seen you enter the elevator.

Once he has you alone upstairs. He puts a hand on your side. "I know who you are. American Military ah?" He whispers, the hair on your body stands up. "Yes." He wraps a hand around your throat and Ghost lines up a shot. "I came here to warn you. They planned to attack tonight. I'm on your side, I want to join you." You plead with him.

John narrows his eyes, he's still sitting at a bar on the first floor. The radio is oddly silent. "Look now!" you plead, just as soon as Soap makes his way up the stairs, the man draws his weapon. Soap lets out a yell as the man shoots at him. "Falling back Captain!" Your radio goes off.

The man narrows his eyes at you. "Why should I trust you?" he asks. "She knew he was going to shoot and didn't tell me. We need to leave, regroup, and find a new plan." Soap says into the radio. "The hell?" John shakes his head. "I'll tell you anything you wanna hear." You breathe out. He nods his head. He grasps your wrist, dragging you along. "Is she working for him?" Soap asks. "Don't know. Whatever you do Ghost, do not lose sight of her." John says into the radio, attempting to make his way up the elevator but it was taking forever. "Yes sir."

"That cheeky little minx!" Ghost exclaims into the radio. "What? What's going on?"

"She's just roofied him!" He laughs. "What? How?" Soap asks. "She must've convinced him it was acid. Put it on her tongue and than swapped it to him." He laughs. "Gross, like... she kissed him?" Ghost rolls his eyes as soap says it. "Shit, he's pulling her into a room. Get to her now, I have no eyes." Ghost says frantically.

Price hears it and gives up on the elevator, trying to make his way up the stairs.

He pushes passed everyone, reaching the second floor where you were.

He opens the front door. Seeing there’s nothing but random stuff laying around the room. He quickly moves to look through the rooms, opening a door to a bathroom. The other must be the bedroom. He kicks it open.

The man is on top of you, he's delirious but he's pulling your dress up. You're trying to fight him off, but he's got your hands pinned with his knees. John pulls him off of you and he passes out as soon as he hits the floor.

"Y/N?" He asks. You look far more scared than he’s ever seen you. "Captain." You hug him quickly. "What happened darling? Are you hurt?" He pulls away, looking you up and down. "He.. He tried to.." John shakes his head. "Did he?" He asks. You shake your head. "It's alright. You did amazing Y/N." He breathes. Pulling you into his side. Soap pushes into the door, seeing the room is a little messy and the man is on the floor. "Why were you so adamant on 5 minutes?" Soap asks.

"She's a virgin." Ghost says, he's on the windowsill. He startles all of you. He'd used a tool to get across to the building. "What?" Soap asks.

He laughs. "You wouldn't notice at first glance. But around him she was a little awkward. Maybe a bad idea to throw her out there as bait." Ghost starts to tie up the man. "I had no idea." John says. You look at the ground, cheeks lighting up. "I... Yeah." John nods his head. "Come on, lets get him back to HQ."

—

"Hey." John says, tapping on your door that was already open just a crack. "Hey." You say back, turning toward the mirror. You were pulling all of the bobby pins from your hair. He closes your door behind himself.

He pulls his hat off, sitting down next to you on the edge of your cot. "I owe you an apology." He says, grasping your hand in his to get your attention. You turn to look at him, your eyes were stunning to him, complimented perfectly by the eyeshadow you had put on.

"I should not have sent you in there like that. I know how bad people like him could be to women and I didn't think about your well being. For that, I'm very sorry."

You smile, looking down. "I should have been up front. I should have told you I was uncomfortable. I let him intimidate me in there. I didn't like it at all." You look down at your free hand, the other pulling out the final bobby pin. You almost take Johns breath away when your hair falls out around your face, something he hadn't ever seen before. "I just.. you're kinda hard on me. I wanted to prove to you that I could handle it, but having him stare me down like he did. Touch me like that. Just made my skin crawl." You mumble.

He places his hand on your bare thigh. "I know love. I am a little rough on you, but I have to be. I want you to understand that if you let your guard down even just a little, you'll die. I care about you and I don't wanna see you hurt. Ever. If something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself." He sighs. "You really proved yourself today, you did great. And by the way, you're a great dancer." He smiles. "You had me fooled, ya did. I would've never guessed you were a virgin." Your cheeks heat up. You laugh.

"How the hell did you convince him to take the roofie ah?" You smile, looking down. "I'm very sneaky and manipulative, Captain. It was easy." He laughs. "Try it on me." he turns. "Okay." You look forward, taking a deep breath. "You know, this dress is a little tight." You spin around, pretending to be uncomfortable, moving closer to him. “You mind helping me?” You mumble. He thinks it’s bait, unraveling the back of it where it’s tied. Once he’s got it taken off, you pull it down slightly. Revealing your cleavage.

You turn to look at him. Staring into his eyes. You swallow hard feigning innocence.

You lean into him, pressing your lips to his.

He's got a tight grip on the blanket, and you keep his interest for quite some time. Even going as far to wrap your arms around his neck.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are closed and when he opens them again, you look at him, a smile on your face. "Okay. I don't see how that's manipulative in any way." He looks confused. You tilt your head. "Maybe not manipulative but sneaky.” You smirk. "Check your pockets."

He narrows his eyes, feeling around his pockets, but they're all empty.

He looks confused.

You bring your hand from behind your back, holding a cigar and a dog tag in your hand.

His eyes widen, a grin covering his lips. "You are a cheeky little thing aren't you?" He laughs. "That kiss even felt real." He laughs. Your smile falters a little bit. His eyes widening. "Oh, because it was, wasn't it?" He laughs. You blush at his teasing and turn away from him. He smiles, grasping your chin and pulling your face to look at him. "Look at me, lass.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you smile into his lips when you feel him reaching for his cigar. You push his hand away, sliding it into his pocket, not taking your lips away from his for even a second.

He starts to lean back and he pulls you with him, lifting your hips up so you could straddle him as he lays back on your bed. Your lips stay on his and he needs to stop you, but he can't. "Y/N, you gotta stop me sweetheart. I can't stop myself." He pants.

"I.. I don't want to stop you." You’re breathless. He pushes you back slightly and he stares into your eyes. They glimmer in the light from your small lamp and he needs to stop. Before he goes too far and gets you both into trouble.

In a way, he feels like he's taking advantage of you. But he can't stop himself. "Lay on your back." He mumbles. Once you do, he pushes himself between your legs. He leans down, kissing you again. This time with a little more desperation than the last. He pulls away, planting a kiss right onto your chin, than again on your neck. He trails them down, tugging your dress down along with him. Sucking love bites into your chest where your breasts were nearly exposed to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" He pulls away for a second, hands gripping the top of your dress. You shake your head. “No..” you whine.

He pulls the top down, revealing your breasts to him entirely. You suck in a sharp breath. How someone could go from hating you to touching you like this so quickly was beyond you.

He plants a kiss to your nipple, maintaining eye contact as he does so, parting his lips just slightly to run his tongue along it. Sucking it between his lips gently. A whimper falls from your lips, you start to squirm underneath him. His facial hair scratches your skin perfectly, creating a burn that feels so good, you couldn't quite describe it.

He moves to the other side, doing it once again to your other nipple until you're starting to whimper a little too loud. You were waiting in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to feel that burn between your legs from his facial hair. The thought alone making arousal pool between your legs. He kisses down your stomach, tongue running along your skin as he moves, lower and lower. He pushes your dress up and over your hips, fingers wrapping around your panties and pulling them off. Your dress bunches up over your stomach. Revealing you to him completely. He looks up at you again, eyes meeting yours. As he lowers himself into you, he keeps eye contact.

Licking the first stripe up your slit, swirling his tongue around your clit, having to hold back a grin when your eyes screw shut. Watching you fall apart beneath him. He's gentle, flicking his tongue against you, gripping your hands tight in his. He draws one of them back, gathering up the wetness from you and his saliva, pulling away for just a second to rub his finger up against your opening, gathering the wetness on his finger.

You whine out, bucking your hips into him. Clutching a handful of his hair.

He lines his finger up with your entrance, you take a deep breath as he slides it in.

You feel full immediately.

He flicks his tongue slow and steady over your clit, pumping his finger inside of you until he could get you wet enough to handle 2. Once he slides the second finger in, you practically melt beneath him.

You cover your mouth with both of your hands, trying so hard to stay quiet. He wants nothing more than to hear you call out for him. Moan his name. He’d put money on it that ‘John’ would roll perfectly off that sweet tongue of yours.

He starts to flick his tongue a little faster, sucking lightly on your clit when his tongue would get tired and you couldn’t help but buck your hips into him. He tries to hold you steady with his one hand, but you’re struggling. Moaning and whimpering but it’s muffled by your hand. Squirming and bucking your hips into him. At this point, he wonders if you’ve ever even been touched at all. He circles over your clit, the wet sounds he makes is lewd as it fills the room.

“John… I- I’m gonna cum.” You whimper. It’s so low it’s almost inaudible. He almost misses it. But he doesn’t, he pumps his fingers into you, scissoring them and curling them up into you, watching the way your body reacts so perfect to him, flicking his tongue against your clit. It’s so much for you, and finally.

Your hips buck into him, a whimper escapes you as you reach your climax. John keeps flicking his tongue and pumping his fingers to ride out your high until you close your thighs around his head, whimpering as you grasp his hand to keep him still. He smiles up at you, lips and beard glossy with your juices. Your face is flushed, you’ve got love bites all over you Mr skin, artwork. Your hair is a little messy now. He takes a deep breath, sitting up as he palms himself through his jeans.

“You taste fuckin sweet darling.”

Your cheeks burn.

It was intense, but you can’t help but want more.

“We’ll get you used to me. We’ll move slow, yeah?” He nibbles at his lip. You nod your head at him.

“Good girl.” He breathes. “Maybe we should wait to go any further-“ he goes to stand up. You reach out for his hand, stopping him. “Wait-“ You breathe. “I.. I want more.” You bite your lip. He looks confused. “Please-“

He sits down. “You.. you want me to-“ he freezes up. You sit up, taking the lead and pressing your lips to his. You move yourself on top of him, hearing him sigh into your lips. You pull away for just a second to unzip his pants, tugging his cock from his boxers and pulling them through the zipper in his pants. You line him up with your entrance, sinking down onto him. Between his saliva, your arousal, and his fingers stretching you out. You’re ready for him.

His fat tip parts your folds, you shake slightly. He’s big. Stretching you.

You slide down onto him, mewling out as he reaches depths nobody has ever before. Your thighs give out when he bottoms out. “Fuck!” He gasps. He looks between the both of you. Watching you raise yourself up and slide back down onto him. Starting to bounce your hips on him. Riding him.

He hisses out, lifting his shirt up and pulling it over his head. You soak the jeans that wrap around his shaft. Reaching down to unbutton them. You’re whining out. The soreness of losing your virginity has subsided. Now, you just rock into him. He reaches up, taking your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, rolling them between his fingers. You cry out, tipping your head back. Rocking into him back and forth until you can feel something building in your stomach. “John-“ you mewl. Hearing his name come from you in such a filthy way has him desperate. “Can’t take it baby.” He groans. He forces you over, flipping you until he’s on top of you.

He’s rough, the cot creaks beneath you as he fucks you hard. Hips hammering into you as he approaches his high. He’s sweaty and horny. Desperate for his high. You’re tight around him, the sound of him sliding into you eggs him on further. He’s trying hard to keep himself from cumming so soon, but it’s been so long. You pull him into you, kissing him to silence the both of you. He keeps his steady pace, hard, deep thrusts. He pulls away to attack your neck with his mouth. Not caring if he leaves marks on you.

“I’m gonna cum baby.” He gasps.

You look up at him. Moaning out. “Me too.” You breathe. “Cum with me sweetheart.” He breathes. “Look at me.”

He keeps your eye contact, hips moving with yours.

When you reach your climax, feeling him twitch inside of you. It’s pure bliss. Something you’ve never felt.

Something you can already tell you’ll be desperate to feel again.

He whines when he cums, riding out his high and sliding out of you. Moving to lay next to you.

It’s silent aside from the both of you panting. Coming down from your highs.

It’s him who finally breaks the silence. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass to you.” He mumbles. “It’s alright.” You giggle. “It’s not. I’ll be nicer I swear.” He laughs. He trails his fingers over your bare stomach. “I hope this isn’t the only time I see you like this.” He mumbles.

“I was hoping for the same thing, Captain.”

[daddypriceugh]

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

*************************

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

*************************

Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before"  he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

[softshuji]

𝟏𝟏:𝟏𝟐𝐏𝐌 | 𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀

Title: Little Black Dress

Summary: Working for Bonten has always had it's perks, like the anonymous gifts you receive every morning. But surely your secret admirer and the Boss you're sleeping with can't be one and the same... right? (see a/n at the bottom) reblogs appreciated! Link to masterlist here!

cw: fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, pet names (pretty girl, good girl) izana and reader both have a sir kink (I'm sorry), alcohol, assumed unrequited feelings (he's a bit dense and awkward), jealousy, implied panty stealing, unprotected sex, ptv, possessiveness, thigh riding, foreplay, a hint of degradation (it's not much promise), biting, marking, orgasm denial, breeding, hair pulling, light choking, loads of praise, it's pure filth i'm sorry. MDNI. This is my first time writing NSFW so be nice yeah?

You and Izana like playing games.

The kind where you pretend like you’re using each other for some purpose or other, ravenous appetites that you sate till you’ve had your fill, two equally gluttonous, hungry people who don’t mind the copious sex and the copious money and all the splashed cash that you think might suffice enough for you not to talk about the type of relationship you have. 

Maybe it’s because he’s your boss, and you’re his subordinate and you have long foregone that boundary that separates you as something more but you’ve never questioned it, why he calls you into his office to sit you on his lap with his fingers dancing over your skin, a ghost of a touch that often slips between your legs. By accident of course, as if it’s your own needs and desires that he’s relieving, and not the fact that his skin thrums and his stomach jumps when you buck your hips against his hand to chase the friction he’s denying you by pulling you along to cynically laugh at in desperation.

Maybe it’s because in the late hours, long after the sunset has bled into a cobalt blue night, he finds you still here, at work in an office, the dress he gifted you still sitting pristine in a box on the desk, looking over accounts and reports and emails that you’d sworn couldn’t wait till morning.

And maybe that’s how it had started, closer to midnight, and he’d found you for the first time, in the dress you’d been sent by an anonymous sender that swelled from where your hips were flush against the fabric, all curves and shadows and accented silk that had his cheeks flushing, as if he hadn’t stolen into your house to read your sizes during your absence. 

Not that he’d stopped after that, and perhaps if you’d bothered to check your undergarments drawer you’d have noticed the worryingly thin stash of black lace panties that you could swear wasn’t half as short in supply last time you checked.

Some habits are hard to break, no? And really, did it matter when there was always something on your desk to make up for it at the end of the week? A pearl necklace, coral shell pink and rose gold that sat against your skin, jade earrings and dainty Rolex watches that the others marvel at when they catch your eye in the mornings, all sleep and slumber still caked under their eyes marred by half-shadows.

‘That’s Pretty,’ Ran says and holds up your wrist to the light, your palm now stroked by his long and lithe fingers, the callouses grazing the sharp indent of your wrist, enough to have you sucking in a breath when he grazes your knuckles achingly slow, torturous in the way he likes. ‘Someone get that for you?’

You’re too drunk on his touch to notice the dark and heavy glint in his eye, violet rays that splash over your arms, roaming over the silk that hugs your body, the curve of your neck where the amply applied concealer hides the heavy purple bruises left by your boss the night before. 

‘Yeah, an anonymous sender,’ you say and flush when he smirks, half hidden by the way his mouth ghosts over the veins in your wrist, soft and warm breath that tickles your skin down to your stomach where the ache settles unremittingly. 

‘Uh-huh… They’ve got a good eye. Pretty things for a Pretty Girl huh?’ 

You pretend it means nothing when the others let their gazes slide over and away from you, some forbidden thing, when Izana walks into the room, a stiffness that permeates the air then and never a moment after, once he has left and they release a collective breath trapped in equally lustful lungs. 

‘Something came for you this morning,’ Kakucho says, a card slid over the table, a boutique name you don’t recognise, and a velvet box inlaid with burnished gold. You feign surprise, a raise of your eyebrows, as if it’s something new, as if Kakucho hasn’t had the conversation so many times already. 

‘Why not just tell her how you feel?’

And Izana scoffs, turns towards the window where the rain falls in droves, a darkened shadow against the grey velvet curtains, the thin slap of it on the roof where it drowns the aching pulse of his heart against his ribs. It should be easy, everything else considered. He’s killed before, bled out in the snow and lived, but it seems trivial when he considers the frown that could accompany your rejection, a slice of fresh pain across his lungs that he’s convinced could be enough to kill him outright. 

‘Again?’ you say, and the thin gold chain slips out onto your palm, the light dancing on the marbled ceiling, a shaft catching on Kakucho’s ivory white eye. ‘There’s never a return address so I can’t even give it back.’

‘Someone must really like you,’ he says, offhandedly, his waistcoat shuffling as he lifts a coffee cup to his lips, turning away towards the mahogany table as the others shuffle towards the door, a smirk hidden behind the hair dancing against his cheek.

‘Mhm, I don’t really deserve all this though, and I don’t even know who they are.’

He turns, an eyebrow raised over the lip of the cup, a graze of his gaze along your collarbone where the dainty chain sits, a kiss of gold on your skin. ‘You deserve that and more, clearly someone else thinks so too.’

Often, you wonder if there is a game being played here, a cat and mouse that you can never grasp, constantly clutching at the end of the string as it’s pulled. They never seem worried and it should bother you, would bother you, if you didn’t feel so safe in the warm encompassing circles of their arms, your heart cradled by their rough hands, a soft touch and graze along your cheek that you pretend is only ever part of the job.

Izana finds you like that on the same night, the rain slapping against the windowpane, the soft and tinny clink of it that slips in through the open window, smooth jazz that fills the empty space in your office, underlaid between the scratch of your pen on paper and the click of your nails on the keyboard. 

He knocks once, a whispery, ‘It’s me,’ that slips underneath the draught at the bottom, before the door swings, a creak on the hinges and the soft pad of his feet on the beige carpet. He holds a hand against the door, as if he’s ashamed of the sound, a frequent glance back at the empty corridor, where the overhead lights seem to pull the shadows closer, a quiet beckon into the safety of your office. 

‘Izana sir,’ you say and lift your head from behind the monitor, the blue light pulling at the taut skin of your cheeks, where the tiredness clings to your skin, a thin sheen of exhaustion curling at the faint shadows under your eyes. ‘Is everything okay?’ 

It’s not uncharacteristic, though the two of you like to pretend it’s new every time, like it’s the very first instance of him coming to you for comfort, for warmth, a quick grab of your light that he eats so ravenously, that he wishes he could swim in and perhaps if you believed in yourself anymore, you could admit that it wasn’t just that you were convenient to sink his teeth into, that maybe you were something more.

‘Mmh? Yeah I’m fine.’ He teeters on the edge, a foot inside the office and not, a hand on the doorknob, his body angled so that he’s both inside and out, a step from foot to foot with apprehension. He curses himself then, inaudibly, for biting his lip, his hand clammy against the door, the hesitant shift of his suit that seems inexorably loud in the otherwise quiet building. He hears a laugh, somewhere far off, Shion and the Haitanis receding towards the exit, the full and raucous giggling that falls to an abrupt stop when the doors close, the tinny plink of the rain that patters on the window. ‘You’re still here?’ he says, for something to say, a furious press of his nails into his palm at his own lack of tact, and it burns that he’s nervous and hiding it this many months later, as if he hasn’t stolen into your house to run his lithe fingers along your sheets, his mind marvelling at the indent of you on the mattress. 

Your eyes fall over him, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the honey of his skin where the streetlight sits so perfectly, the silver glow of his hair that kisses at his cheeks. ‘Y-yeah, I didn’t want to leave this until morning.’ Your tongue trips, in the way it always has around him, a thick and heavy film that coats your teeth. ‘Come in, I’ll get you a drink.’

You stand, and he moves, the door clicked shut as he lingers along your desk, his fingers drumming on the velvet box, a bare and quick glance at the gold trim. He knows you like pretty things, and maybe he finds it easier like this, copious gifts and sex that he hopes is enough to tell you what he can’t, the complicated tangle of his feelings barred behind the trapdoor, and really, Kakucho is right, he could tell you how he feels, and then wait for the inevitable hurt that he is so sure is coming, the icicle of pain and rejection you’re sure to stab into his heart, because he is just your boss, and you are just his employee.

You turn away from him towards the drinks cabinet and he allows a single moment to marvel at how the dress clings to you, a slip of a thing that licks at your thighs, a little shorter when you reach upwards for the glasses in the cabinet, the lacey trim of your stockings slipping into view. Maybe it’s shameful, how you wear the things without knowing who they’re from, as if you don’t know how he’ll tear it off you, run his hands along the insides of your thighs to feel the silk and satin on the backs of his scarred hands, a harsh tug of your hips to pull you flush against him.

‘You should have gone home,’ he says, a lie of course, slipping effortlessly through his teeth, and you only smile over your shoulder, a thin and watery thing that has his throat aching.

‘I don’t mind.’ You hold two glasses in one hand, and pull the decanter off the shelf with the other, the amber swirl inside lightning to gold when you move past the window again, copper light that weaves through your dress and his hands itch, a harsh and aggressive clench of his fists against his sides.

There is a slosh, amber swirling into the crystal and a glass handed over, a murmured thank you that’s lost underneath the undulating slap of the rain on the roof. He watches you over the rim, the fold of your legs, one on top of the other and alluringly splayed out so that your stockinged foot grazes his ankle, your bare arms kissed by goosebumps prickling across your skin. The gold chain sits on your collarbone, a single flash of light on your otherwise bare skin.

‘How come you came? I thought you’d have…’ 

He tilts his head, the sweep of his sharp white hair falling against his nose, the dress shirt slipping open as he lifts his glass to tease the patch of golden honey skin on his chest, his tie skewed. ‘What?’

‘Just….’ You suck in a breath, a quick slip of your gaze from the haunting violet burn of his eyes, to the marbled ceiling, the silhouette of him spreading his thighs on your sofa burned onto the roof, a dark shadow of opulence that has the heat crawling along your flushed skin. ‘I thought you’d be going to see a girl that’s all.’

He raises an eyebrow, a twitch of his mouth that you try not to linger on, full and pink lips glistening with a thin sheen of whisky, the translucent shine of them that you think tastes of sugar and vanilla, honey and warm coffee. 

He shifts, lifts his hips to adjust his dress pants and your eyes fall, unashamedly, on the prominent bulge half hidden by the darkness, a single shaft of copper light dancing on his thigh, and you can’t help it, the way your teeth bite at your lip hard enough to hurt, a blinding flash of pain and arousal that pools in your tummy. You hate it, the betrayal of your body that comes so easily, the fold of your veins and control that comes from a few simple actions, the dance of your heart against your ribs.

‘Would it matter if I was?’ he says and leans back, the amber swirling along the crystal of the glass, raising it to his lips where the warmth of his breath mists against the surface, the imprint of his perfect lips now flecked with the heady taste of whisky, the ice clinking at the bottom of the tumbler.

Your eyebrows shoot up on instinct, the flush of embarrassment, spreading along your exposed cleavage, where Izana’s eyes drift lazily before flitting back to the pert mouth where your faded red lipstick still sits. ‘N-no, obviously not, I mean yes- no- I’m not sure.’ 

‘Hm? That makes no sense. So which is it?’

Your heart thrums against your ribs, an embarrassment so loud you’re convinced he can hear the ringing in your ears, the thin and tinny pressure that has red blooming across the nape of your neck. ‘I- I only mean…’ Your tongue is too heavy for your mouth, a weight that has the words drying on your whisky-flecked lips. ‘...that, if you went to see a girl, you’d be allowed, and it would be your right.’

He hums, a slow roll of his neck, where the sharp angles of his clavicles slip into view, the golden sand of his skin now catching the copper glow filtering through the window and you squeeze your thighs together in some attempt to subtly relieve the ache slowly building there. 

‘So, you wouldn’t be jealous?’ he says and spreads his legs wider, his arms moving to rest on the back of the sofa, the faint warmth in his chest now simmering with a growing heat.

‘Should I be? Is that what you want?’

‘Maybe. But why would you get jealous? Don’t you have the others to give you the attention you want?’

You burn at the tone, the teasing lilt and airy whisper that melts against your skin, the silhouette of him with the rain-dashed window slicing across the pristine and pressed white shirt now unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled to the elbow.

Your tongue aches when you lift it to run over your teeth. Faintly, in some recess of your head, you hear a door slam, undulated by the thwack of the rain on the window, the occasional click of shoes on linoleum and the screech of tires beyond the 19th floor window and it’s so far away, so quiet when you’re here so high up and the ringing in your ears has a constant hammer to your skull.

You lick your lips and his eyes flick to your tongue peeking out. ‘That’s true but, what if it’s not their attention I want so much?’

‘Oh? And whose attention do you want?’

You bite the inside of your cheek, uncross your legs and cut your eyes to the decanter on the table, the empty glass still poised between two lithe fingers and there is a beat, a long and draining silence that swallows the air between you while you let it drift and hang, your eyes flitting between the violet haze roaming your skin and his lips where the aftertaste of whisky lingers.

‘Here.’ You pick up the decanter and stand, using one hand to smooth down the front of your silk slip, a barely perceptible shake that you’re quick to hide as you lean over to steady his waiting glass. ‘Let me refill that for you.’

He watches, a wolf eyeing prey, a heat between his legs that has his mouth drying, uncomfortable and thick as the tension dragging through the air. 

You make to turn, the decanter set onto the table when he grabs your wrist, a tight squeeze that has your ribs closing around your heart. You turn back, a less than subtle squeeze of your thighs together, where his eyes flick from the crease in your dress, to your lips parted with the thin sheen of whisky. 

‘I don’t think you answered my question,’ he says, his voice a low hum as he strokes a slow circle onto the dip in your wrist. ‘I asked whose attention you wanted.’

Your tongue drags along the roof of your mouth, your palm clammy and curled into a loose fist, the warmth in your blood beating at your skin. ‘Yours, only yours.’ 

‘Mhm, really? I don’t think I believe you.’ His lithe fingers dance along your forearm before he pulls, harshly, a tug that has you reaching an arm out to cage him between you and the sofa. Your heart punches against your ribs. Your warm breath fans the tip of his nose, a hairdbreath from your parted lips as you gasp, your thighs now straddling and pressing him to the fabric of the sofa. 

‘It’s true, I swear,’ you whisper, your silk slip riding up towards your waist, panties now brushing the rich polyester of his dress pants. ‘I’m yours, I belong to you.’

‘Not to Ran? I’ve seen how he looks at you.’ 

You shake your head, adamantly, the shuffle of your slip matching your bated breaths. ‘Not to Ran, only to you my Izana.’

He runs his hands along your thighs, a press of his fingers into your skin, the rough pads of his thumbs tracing a line to the swell of your ass before he pulls you closer still, a slow and languid grind against his quickly hardening cock, the press of it against your clit that has your panties dampening.

‘That’s right, I own you, so are you going to let me have you?’ And he bites hard on his lip when your hands come to tangle in his hair, a harsh tug that has a quiet gasp slipping between his lips. Your mind crumbles too quickly, and you find yourself rolling your hips, a glide along his thigh, the wetness pooling in sticky warmth, your panties clinging to your skin, the patch on his charcoal dress pants now darkening with your arousal.

‘Yes, yes I- I need you,’ you gasp, sparks of pleasure rolling against your clit, and it’s too much, the ringing in your ears is too loud, the fog in your head has your eyes fluttering, the piercing violet gaze slipping and out of view. 

He groans, his grip tightening around your thighs, your soft and supple skin spilling between his fingers, silver rings that burn cold where they graze the sensitive inside of your thighs. 

‘What do you need? Tell me, I want to hear it.’

‘Please, don’t make me say it,’ you whisper, breath caught in your throat where one ringed hand slides to squeeze lightly at your neck, the faint pulse and quicken of your heartbeat sending waves of pleasure along his spine. 

‘Mhm, you have to.’ And he drums his fingers down your shoulder blades. ‘Use your words for me, you can do it.’ 

‘I need- I want- just want you to fuck me, please.’ You almost whimper at the soft sultriness of his voice hot on your ear, the warm dance of his rough fingertips along your skin, tracing a line from the curve of your breasts to your hips. He squeezes, thrusts up once, a light bump of friction against your aching clit, chuckling when you moan unabashedly at the sudden jolt. 

‘Good girl, such a good obedient girl for me aren’t you? Does it hurt?’

You nod fervently, your mouth latched to his neck, hot kisses and bites that elicit shivers along his skin. He likes this, you know as much, the tit-for-tat, the teasing and pulling at you, drawing along your pain till it satisfies him, and you’d feel angry about it if the pleasure didn’t feel so hazily sweet after.

‘It hurts, Izana please, just wanna feel you inside.’ And it does, a heavy and dizzy ache between your thighs that has you shamelessly grinding on his now drenched dress pants for the barest lick of friction. 

‘Mhm I know, you poor thing, am I being too mean by keeping this from you?’ he says and dips his head, a flick of his tongue along your exposed collarbone, the scent of your perfume lingering on your skin before he eagerly takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks, bites, and slides his tongue over it, alternating between both while you tug at his hair wound tight in your fist. ‘You want me to make you cum?’

‘Please sir.’ Your breath is caught in your throat, your soaked panties clinging to you, the slick of your arousal pooling between his thighs and yours.

He almost laughs, giddy with the heat from your skin, all warmth and hot anticipation that has him lifting his hips to pull his dress pants down as you eagerly tug at his belt, your hands shaking when you fiddle with the clasps, your lips bitten raw in need. 

‘You sound so sweet when you beg like that- it almost makes me not want to let you.’

You freeze, the warmth in your blood chilling with the subtle undertone and the delicious promise  of your pleasure in his waiting palms and you keen in response, palming at his hard cock leaking pre-cum till he’s slipping your panties to the side with a loud groan against your neck. 

You’ve done this before obviously, it’s a common occurrence, him finding warmth in you, between your soft thighs, the trail of purple marks left on your neck and chest, his tongue lapping at your slick and fingers in your throat to gag on, the shaky convulsing and spasm that he controls by pinning your legs to your chest.

He kisses you, softly at first, a single moment in which he lets you hold eye contact, your dazed and watery expression where the reflection of him with his shirt pulled open and his hair in your hands peers back at him. He lets his tongue gently slide along yours, a light trace of it along the veins of the underside, a soft bite on your reddened lips, a suck on your tongue that has the saliva pooling at the corner of your mouth.

‘You’re so pretty, you know how badly I want you?’ And he teases the tip of his cock through your folds, the slick coating it in a translucent sheen. You yelp when he thrusts in one go, half of his cock slipping into your warm pussy. You grab at his shoulders for support, your eyes scrunched in partial bliss and pain. He knows you like the stretch, the burn of his cock inching its way in and it’s why he’s so tantalisingly slow with it, millimetre by millimetre, the brush of the vein on the underside pulsating warmly inside. 

You mewl and bunch his shirt in your hands, knuckles white and squeezing at the fabric, practically drooling on his shoulder as he lowers you down, your slick webbing on his thighs. 

‘It’s too much, I can’t do it, I can’t Izana,’ you say despite yourself, despite the forceful squeeze of your walls sucking him in, the delicious thrum of pain and dizzying pleasure rolling along your clit. 

‘Shhhhh, yes you can, you know you can, be a good girl and relax, you can do it,’ he says, his ragged breath fanning the nape of your neck, hands bruising at your hips in his firm grip. ‘Look at how you’re sucking me in already, my good and obedient girl.’

You hardly have time to register the praise before he pulls you firmly, with his hands held tight around your hips, flush on his cock, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs, a gasp pulled from your throat as your eyes squeeze shut. 

‘Izana!’ you tug harshly on his hair, a groan spilling past his parted lips as you adjust to his size, the electrifying zing of pain rolling with the stretch of him inside you. Your breath comes hot and fast, your chest pressed to his. He grazes his lips along your breasts, a slight bite and playful nibble on your nipples that has your pussy squeezing him further.

‘Relax, let me make you feel good.’ He sighs, a bubble between a moan and a whine as he begins a languid grind of your hips on his. 

You try to lift your hips, a bit of breathing room from the hot and heavy air, to slow him down from where his cock kisses at your cervix, the press of it that you feel inching towards your tummy and you’re biting down hard on his shoulder in the process, your broken whines pressed to his skin. It aches and he’s slow about it, a lazy drawl of him dragging through your walls, the vein zigzagging and pulsating and licking at your aching pussy. 

He pulls your thigh higher, hooks it further on his waist, and his cock presses deeper still, till you’re babbling a broken version of his name, your mascara smeared on the white lapel of his shirt. 

‘Ah- Izana, please, more, need more-’ and it comes out as a whine and a whimper, your clit brushing against the rough fabric of his pants and you moan at the friction of it, at the way he throws his head back and bounces you on his cock, all shame foregone, the chase of your pleasure that has him eagerly panting your name.

‘You’re such a-’ he pants, his eyes clouding with lust, a dip of his gaze from the bliss written across your face to the place where his cock disappears inside you, ‘a- greedy girl aren’t you? So greedy and needy, and all mine, only mine.’

‘Only- hah- yours sir.’ You’re breathless, the air stifling hot, warm with the scent of perfume, sweat and sex, your hands finding purchase in his shirt now pulled entirely open, his hair now messy and curling around his ears. 

‘Sh-shit, oh fuck- you feel so good around me, so fuckin’ perfect-’ a drawl almost, his head thrown entirely back, the languid and lazy grind of his cock now picking up speed, a ruthless thrust that has your voice breaking, grasping at him, the flexed and taut arms that keep you pressed to his chest.

‘You’re too deep ‘zana!’ And in your delirious haze, you’re minutely aware of the wet slap of skin on skin, the renewed effort to keep him inside despite the pooling of your slick soaking down to the sofa, and it’s all so wet, so dirty, that you almost don’t notice how he pulls your hair back by the root, the silver rings grazing your neck till he presses his lips to yours and swallows the moan now rolling along his tongue. He bites you hard, a yelp that has your clit pulsing and your legs tightening, and his groan is breathy, high pitched,

‘You’ll take it like my good girl won’t you?’ You’re doing so well f’me.’

‘Zana! Please- please- just like that-’ You rake your nails along his back, a scratch against his spine that has him arching off the sofa, pushing further into you, his thrusts forceful and rough, the air blown from your lungs, the shaky and dizzying gasps along the shell of his ear. 

‘I know, I know, you’re so pretty like this- never letting them have you, you belong to me,’ he says and punctuates every word with a harsh thrust, your breasts bouncing and a hand coming up to stroke the curve of your spine under your dress. You shiver, a mewl and a whine as your orgasm creeps along your nerves, your clit pulsing and tingling, the drag and graze of his cock kissing at your cervix and your mind reels, the pounding in your ears so intense it drowns out the dirty squelch of your hips meeting in every harsh thrust.

‘Feels good-feels so good- don’t stop ‘zana,’ you say, pressing your nails into his skin, and in your daze, grabbing at his face to press a kiss to his bitten lips, your saliva smeared all over his chin, pooling in your mouth as your tongue sucks at his, a kiss that’s all teeth and high pitched whimpers that he captures with his lips latched firmly on yours. You see your saliva dribbling down his chin, shiny pearlescent tears streaked onto your cheeks, black caked mascara on his neck from where you’ve eagerly pressed your skin to his.

‘Say it,’ he says, his hand around your throat squeezing in time with your racing heart, a loud punch against your ribs. ‘Tell me you love me and I’ll let you cum. Tell me I’m the only one.’

‘You are!’ you fervently nod, clutching his shirt, the bounce and slap of your hips against his creating a messy and slick squelch. ‘I love you- I love you- I love you,’ you say, eager to chase the sweet and delicious high now teetering before your eyes. 

‘Louder.’ He grabs your hips, grinds his cock back and forth, dragging it along your slick walls, a shaky hand snaking between the wet and warm mess of your bodies to rub smooth circles over your puffy clit. ‘Want to hear you scream it, or I won’t let you cum.’ 

You whimper into his shoulder, your hoarse and tired voice choking out the words muffled by the now decorated skin of his neck. ‘I’m yours! I belong to you, only you- please let me cum ‘zana.’ You don’t think of the possible embarrassment of being heard, the assistants running to and fro in the corridors hearing you moan so loud it has your neck flaring with heat, or that your faded lipstick is pressed to his collar, your sticky arousal pooling on his thighs, the indent of his fingers pressed into your hips.

‘Do you deserve to cum? Tell me,’ he says, the squeeze of your walls around his cock making his head spin, a delirious and dizzying rush of blood in his ears and you hate him, a ferocity of such loathing that has you squeezing impossibly tighter around him, shameless and broken moans spilling past your parted lips.

You’re minutely away of the brush of your dress hiked to your waist now clinging to your sweat-slicked skin, the shimmering black now folded in creases from where his hands have bunched it in his eager grasp and you gasp when his cock grazes your cervix just right, messy and wet enough to have him slipping out from where his thumb presses to your tingling clit.

‘I deserve- I deserve it- I’ll never misbehave sir- I’ll do anything, just let me cum, please.’ And you rock against him in selfish need, pushing yourself further against him on the sofa, hoping to chase your orgasm into peaceful bliss.

He groans, latching his mouth to your neck and biting hard, the tug on your hair baring your clavicle for him where he lets his teeth graze your sweaty perfumed skin. ‘Good girl, that’s what I like to hear, you sound so pretty like that.’ He thrusts messily, once, twice, his thumb rubbing tighter circles on your clit. ‘Go ahead and cum for me, all over my cock, let me feel you.’ 

It’s messier still, wet and gushing all over his abdomen, soaking into the fine hairs of his navel when you do cum, all translucent pearly arousal slickening his thighs, you rocking your hips to ride out the high and smearing it further, your body slackening, the hand around your throat squeezing enough to have your mind numbing and falling apart. 

‘Izana, sir…’ Your parted mouth sighing and whimpering his name as the bliss washes over you, heavy and thick enough to have your eyes fluttering against his neck before he languidly aims a punchy thrust, his cock twitching against your pulsing walls.

‘There you go, that’s a good girl, I’ve got you- you going to take my cum now? Let me breed you like the good girl you are?’ he says and stills your hips, an arch to his back as he sucks in a heavy and choked breath, the squeeze of you wrapped around his cock that has his hands shaking on your hips.

‘Mhm, want you to fill me up ‘zana, I’m all yours.’ And you press further against him, into the sofa, the rough fabric against your thighs eliciting a shiver that runs across your spine.

‘Sh-shit, That’s right- all mine, gonna give you a baby and make you mine forever,’ he moans and his hips jerk, a strong and sloppy thrust against the ache inside you before he spills entirely, thick and warm rivulets of heavy cum now seeping between your legs, the soft skin of your thighs coated in a shiny white sheen. 

He rides out the high, a punctuated grind that has your clit tingling with the friction, your name falling from his lips in divinity, in a soft and breathy whisper, hoarse whine bubbling at the back of his throat as his features settle into bliss, peaceful pleasure that has his lashes shivering against his cheek. 

You come down together, a moment of brief quiet, the air permeated with the lingering aftertaste of sweat and perfume, warm and cloistered, the rain beating on the windowpane, gentle lashings of ice and wind that have the trees creaking beyond the glass.

He runs a hand along your spine, you sitting still there with your head resting on the apex of his chest, smooth and littered with bites and broken capillaries under the skin, a garden of blooming reds and pinks and purples that’ll fade to a violet hue by morning, the thin sheen of sweat curling his white hair at the back of his neck, sticky and plastered to his nape. 

There is little talking in these moments, just the faint and steady breaths taken in time with the other, the rhythm of his heart beating wildly against your cheek and you, gathered in his arms while the ringing in your ears subsides, a tick-tock of the wall clock and the peaceful transient bliss pervading the space between your breaths, soft sighs and shy smiles that you’re eager to hide against the swell of his shoulder.

He clears his throat, a circle traced across the fine bones in your spine. ‘Are you okay? Was it…good?’ he says, the veil of his barrier broken for the moment, the shaky timbre of his voice that has your heart aching, resting gently in his palms where it has since the day you’d met, and you’d first tasted him all those months ago, sweet and honeyed and full of promise.

You lift a hand to touch at his cheek, the back of one shaky finger following the proud and pronounced arc of his cheekbones, his straight nose, the bloom of his full and pink lips now bitten down by the both of you. ‘It was good, Izana sir, really good.’ 

‘You’re….happy? It didn’t hurt?’

‘I’m happy and no it didn’t hurt.’ You pause. ‘Well, not in any way I didn’t like.’ And your thumb catches on his lips, a kiss pressed to the indent of your wrist, the veins jumping under the warmth of his talented mouth, a heat flaring across your skin now hidden by the moon sprinting behind the clouds. 

You stay like that for a while, the rain beating against the window, so high up and far, away from the Haitanis slipping into a car on the road, the screech of tires half hidden by the heavy pounding of thunder booming across the sky.

‘Think he’s gonna tell her soon?’ Rindou says and spares a glance at the window of your office, far away from prying eyes, the darkened interior illuminated only by the patch of moonlight where your open laptop sits faded to black.

‘Mhm, maybe. But you know how he is, he thinks no one can tell he’s in love with her.’ Kakucho says and stubs out a cigarette against the top of a street bin, the rain dashing against the bonnet of the car.

‘Anyone could, especially after all those gifts, he’s not really as subtle as he pretends to be.’ This from Ran who leans languidly back against the drivers seat while the others crush their half-finished cigarettes and throw them haphazardly into the trash, the single slice of moonlight falling from your window leaving only the darkness of the night to swallow up the interior. 

‘Yeah well, don’t let him hear you saying that, he’s trying in whatever way he knows. Only reason he hasn’t told her is because he thinks she’s going to reject him.’ Kakucho pulls open the passenger door and slips in, the collar of his black coat now frigid with cold. Rindou stretches his legs out behind them, pulling his door shut against the biting wind nipping at his cheeks, a shiver breaking out across his skin.

‘I guess you’re right. I wonder if she knows they’re from him.’ Ran says and revs the engine of the car, a sound you minutely hear under the layers of rain and wind whipping at the window, the two of you settled for the moment, a weak and watery peace you know can never last, that can only survive till morning, where you know that you’ll slip into the title of employee once more, where he is cold and far away, warmed only by the slightest touch of your knuckles to his as you pass in the corridor, strangers again till the night comes.

…That and you expect to find a new gift on your desk when morning comes too.

You’ve always known a little more than you let on haven’t you?

a/n: hi everyone (god I'm nervous), this was a submission for @sleepysnk sugar daddy collab (of which you can find here, i'm sorry I am so late, i've been very busy between working and finding a new job but I hope you like it anyway) as always, feedback is welcome but pls be nice and constructive about it. (I'm embarrassed enough just to leave my digital footprint here like this lmao) I love u all x

nsfw taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added) @blackfire2013 @haitaniapologist @nikokopuffs @mochimiyaas @mingodaddy @longlivebaji @sin-and-punishment @keiskyutie @bertholdts--butt @tetsutits @reiners-milkbiddies

[whateverloomis]

hihi! could I request poly!ghostface with an idol reader? afab but any/no pronouns works

The reader just enrolled in the school recently, both to be closer to LA and try and keep the public away. Reader isn't world famous or anything, but has a recognizable name. Maybe has been on a talent show and radio station a few times.

Hi! Thank you for your request anon 💖 This was a very interesting one to work with. I did a lil twist with the LA detail. I don't know if you wanted some saucy smut in here so I kept it on the teasy side, (I love this gif set 😭🙈.)

Warnings: Teasing, inappropriate touching, manipulation, alcohol consumption, getting tipsy, cliffhanger (I think?), unedited

Reader: They/Them pronouns in italics. Reader is AFAB fem presenting.

-

"An independent journalist?" Sidney asked, intrigued and confused all at once.

"Yeah, like. Y'know, the people who go around asking questions about crime cases and other crazy news." Tatum answered, filling the group in with the latest gossip.

"Yeah, I got interviewed yesterday, but apparently it's like a low-key thing. Some kind of personal project that might not go public." Randy added and Sidney nodded, processing all the information.

The press being all over town was bad enough, and now some secret journalist or something? She definitely wanted to avoid anymore questions, so she took note in order to avoid anyone that might've seemed, strange? She didn't really know how to handle the situation.

"Hey, how come I haven't gotten a cool secret interview?" Stu asked, pouting like a little kid.

"I don't think someone low-key like that wants to interview your loud ass." Billy replied and Stu faked being hurt. The rest of the group laughed at the boys usual grumpy commentary.

"Look, that's the journalist." Randy whispered and stared in a -not so subtle- way. Everyone else gave their visual attention to the person and Billy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Then he looked at Stu, who also seemed a bit more interested than usual.

They didn't know what to expect from the title "journalist" when it came to appearance but it definitely wasn't this. They had a short black dress on with a cream colored cardigan sweater. Black combat boots and white knee high leg warmers that completed the casual outfit and gave it a touch of cuteness compared to the little dress that hung dangerously close to their ass, threatening to rise up at any moment.

"Well damn." Stu said in a flirty and amused tone. Tatum glared at him and then the group continued their usual chaotic conversations and speculations about the ghost face murder case.

•

Inside the campus, a memorial for Casey Becker and Steve Orth was placed at the end of the main hallway. YN was looking at every detail and every note the students left close to the couples pictures and took notes in their leather journal. It seemed like a casual thing but Billy and Stu knew what was up.

"You think they might have a lead?" Stu questioned as he and Billy walked along the hallway casually, trying to seem like they were doing anything else other than approaching the journalist.

"I don't know... But we better make sure they don't find any." Billy answered and Stu widened this eyes, excitement radiating off him.

"Hooh, what are you suggesting man? We kill them?" Stu whisper-screamed and Billy hit his friends arm. "Would you shut up? That's not what I'm saying... Maybe, a distraction of some sort... A mislead." Billy answered and Stu got even more excited. It was like a game to them, one they knew how to manipulate however they wanted to.

•

After the last class of the day, YN was ready to go to their small apartment and put the pieces together with the info they gathered about the ghost face case.

As they were putting their books and other things into their shoulder bag, Billy approached them. He seemed mysterious to YN and they instantly grew curious. Maybe he knew something about the case?

"YN, right?" He said, his tone slightly flirty.

"Yes, and you are?" YN asked, mimicking his tone and smiling up at him innocently.

Billy let out a breathy laugh, smirking. "Billy. Billy Loomis. I uh, heard you were investigating the ghost face case or something of that sort?" He said, taking a step forward and placing his hand on YNs desk.

"Words getting around huh? Yes. I'm keeping it low-key though. Not everyone peeks my interest with this." They replied and Billy raised an eyebrow.

"No? Do I seem interesting enough?" He asked, smirking down at YN as they chuckled at his flirting and interest.

"Can't deny that you do, Loomis. We can talk. My place at 7? I'd rather be somewhere comfortable." They said and grabbed Billy's hand softly, writing their phone number and address on the palm of his hand with a marker.

Billy looked at it for a second and smiled at YN, nodding and leaning on the desk. "I have a friend too, he has some pretty interesting info as well. I could bring him over, if you'd like." He added and YN thought about it for a second. Other than receiving what seemed like good insight, if his friend was just as attractive as him, they wouldn't mind that one bit.

"Sure, that's fine with me. See you at 7?" YN checked one last time. "We'll be there." Billy replied and watched as they walked past him towards the exit door of the classroom and the boy couldn't help but scan their gorgeous body from head to toe.

•

"Wine?" YN asked the boys and Billy declined. Stu was about to say yes but Billy kicked him under the table.

"Dude, f- Uh, no I'm good. Thanks-" Stu stumbled on his words and YN giggled, pouring themselves a glass. It was perfect, if YN was tipsy enough the boys would be able to twist and turn their words in order to steer YN into the wrong direction with the case. They could also get information out of them and mess around with it too. Perfect plan.

All three of them conversed easily and it got better once YN started to get affected by the alcohol. They told Billy and Stu about how they lived in LA and how it was too overwhelming to live in. After they heard about the small town of Woodsboro and ghost face it didn't only peak their interest, but it was a perfect excuse for them to move out of LA and transfer into a new college. Have a real change in their lifestyle and pursue their journalism dream.

As the conversation went on YN got more intrigued by the boys and what they were saying.

"The thing is that Sidney's dad is missing. And it happened exactly when the murders took place so, it makes total sense that he'd be the prime suspect." Stu commented and YN wrote every single thing down.

Billy was standing close to YN, leaning against the kitchen counter trying to peak at their notes, but he could barely read anything.

"So what else do you have in there?" Billy asked, not caring about keeping his intentions low-key. He moved towards YN who was sitting on a stool, using the counter as a table.

"Nothing you should be concerned about, Loomis." YN answered and took another sip of their second glass of wine that night.

Stu chuckled and placed his hand on top of YNs. "C'mon, you can tell us, we can provide a lot of info."

"Yeah, we have a friend who's a cop too, so we have good insight." Billy continued and kept walking towards YN, sliding his hand against the counter top.

YN giggled at their attempts to get an insight scoop of what they've collected so far, but maybe the boys were right. I mean, they did have a cop as a friend, so that was definitely a good source.

Billy was a few inches away from YN, leaning against the counter top. "C'mon baby, you can tell us. We can keep a secret or two." He said and placed his hand on YNs left thigh.

They were almost drunk at that point and didn't care what they did or said. They were soaked between their legs because of the alcohol effects, plus Billy and Stu being so flirty and straight forward wasn't helping with their needyness.

Stu walked over to YN and stood right behind them. He placed his hands on their arms and soothed them. "We'll even introduce you to our cop friend, it'll be a perfect link for you." He whispered in their ear and they shivered at the sound of his soft voice.

"Mm... That does sound good... but I have a feeling there's a catch." YN said. Even in their tipsy state, they could reason and detect the boys wanted something in return.

"Now we're talking." Billy said and smirked, running his hand up and down YNs thigh. "We don't want much just..." He paused and stepped between YNs legs, running both his hands up their thighs and lifting their dress up the tiniest bit. "Wanna have a little fun with you, that's all..."

"It'll be good for you babe, you'll get exactly what you want, hm?" Stu said softly and placed his large hands on their waist.

YN was nearly melting at their soft touches and in their lack of sobriety Billy and Stu's offer sounded more than satisfying.

"Mm, you have a deal then." They replied and ran their left hand up Billy's chest.

"That's what I like to hear."

[shatcey]

Haunted House Report (Alfons endings)

Alfons 1-2ch Alfons endings Epilogue (briefly) Roger (premium)

And now I have to warn you about the spoilers to Alfons's route. Yes, I am a very kind person. But… There were no spoilers in the first two chapters, they only appear in the endings…

Normal ending

The woman in red went in search of the old man, and Alfons and Kate shared their impressions. Alfons asks Kate if she thinks this woman is happy. And Kate replies that she doesn't look happy.

They return to the old man, who is desperately trying to find evidence. He is convinced that he will find it and destroy it, but the next day it reappears, and there is no end to it. For some reason, this reminds me of Oscar Wilde's short story "The Canterville Ghost"...

Alfons uses his ability on him...

After that, they show him the exit, and the old man begins to leave. Kate said it was the right thing to do…

They return to the mansion (after all, they haven't completed their mission… more about it at the premium end), and Kate looks at the old man again and notices the red dress of the ghost, which seems to be following him. Alfons also looks at the man and notices..

Kate is thinking about Alfons' fate. That after his death, everyone would forget about him, as if he had never existed. She thinks that's probably why, when they talked about the ghost, he said he didn't want them to be real. Because he doesn't want to become a ghost. But she decided that this was just a speculation, and to lighten the mood, she promised to have some fun after they completed the mission…

So cute… I wish that was all…

Premium ending

After telling the story, the ghost lady stayed with them, and Kate said she understood her feelings a bit.

She added that if he thought about her once a year, she would be happy with it.

Kate thinks that despite his usual teasing tone and his usual smile, it unmistakably sound like his true feelings.

I see it not as regrets, but as worries, thoughts… She can't rest in peace because she can't stop thinking about him. For me… The regrets associated with him are more like she's not really happy to be with him. But that's how I interpret the word. Maybe I'm wrong. That's why I'm leaving the original version.

He was shocked by this passionate confession and to hide it teased her a bit

The ghost watched their conversation with a dreamy smile. Kate noticed this and changed the subject.

Alfons remembered their assignment and asked another question.

Who would have thought that the "Crown" (elite assassins of Her Majesty the Queen) are now seeking refuge for criminals… What happened to all of Will and Vic's informants?

And since the ghost helped them, she should get a reward, like all informants. At first she said she didn't need a reward, just forget about it.

She resisted a bit, but Kate and Alfons managed to convince her. And she reluctantly agreed. And Alfons… used his magic fingers on the old man again, who continued to search for evidence.

And when the old man sees the lady in red (I forgot to call her that) he literally runs away. They run after him, and Kate wonders how fast this old man is… considering his age and all.

He ran to the cliff, where he most likely killed this woman. The ghost appeared next to him and he asked for forgiveness. And then the ghost reach out to touch him, he tried to shake off her hand, but… lost balance and… fell off a cliff.

The still-living people (Alfons and Kate) rushed to help, but it was too late.

They returned to Kate's room. Alfons said it ended pretty well. All those who suffered… don't suffer anymore. Alfons noticed that the whole their mission was like a detective, and if he is kicked out of the "Crown", he must open a detective agency. And for the first case… Kate asks him

So basically Kate on normal ending guessed right. Well… it was very easy to deduce.

Kate assures him that regardless of whether he is alive or dead, she wants to think about him, so she will never stop looking for a way to avoid his fate.

A few days later, Kate and William were discussing their next mission in the living room. Suddenly Kate noticed that Will was staring intently at her back. She turned around and saw nothing. William laughed, saying that he thought someone was behind her, and after she returned from her assignment at the haunted house, she probably took the ghost with her. Kate said it wasn't a funny joke, but he didn't react, so she asked… It was a joke, right?

No, William! Don't you f*** dare to say that! I usually love it when you say it, but not now!!!

(screem)

Ok... that's it.

So… I will probably (most likely) buy an epilogue. If so, I will make a summary, no matter how creepy it turns out to be.

And I have a little time, so maybe I will collect points for another story (Roger's). But I'm not sure if it will be normal or premium…

And about Alfons in this event. I mentioned earlier that he's really the perfect boyfriend. He always helped her, supported her when she fell down. When she realized she hadn't done much, he gave her a chance to lead the investigation and find the door herself. Subtle kindness. I like that he never shows off of his actions, but it can't be interpreted any other way.

I also noticed that he is not prone to excessive flirting and jokes, as usual. He's kind of used to dealing with difficult situations, so I doubt very much that he's become more focused because of it. Most likely, this is her influence. He has become calmer, more confident about the future, and I think it suites him.

But on the other hand, I'm a little worried about his constant subconscious actions aimed at pleasing her. He (again) is used to doing this and always puts the needs of others above his own, and I'm a little concerned that he continues to do so. I hope that further events will prove that I was wrong.

@judesmoonbeauty as promised

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[tenshinokorin]

TnK's Trigun Fic Listing

Ok now that I've got 15 fics out for Trigun (so far) and at least a couple of those are upwards of 20K and some of them are sequels and followups and ongoing, I thought maybe I should do a proper list of things, to make it easier for people who want to read in some kind of order. I'm terrible about talking up my own work but this is also for my own reference so that's fine, right? ^^; All fics are Vashwood-centric (I will get to Nai in a minute I have a backlog) and ratings vary from Gen to Explicit, though all are intended for an adult audience. This list is complete as of September '23, I will update it periodically as needed! 

NB: I'm lucky enough to have gotten fanart for some of these and sometime when my head is not full of mud I'll go in and add links to those where I can. (Or please drop a link in the replies if you are one of the wonderful artists in question!) 

THE BIG THREE STORYLINES: 

Someday Out of the Blue & I Believe in the Kingdom Come

Trigun '98 canon. Reincarnation fic. The first one is a story I started writing over 20 years ago and quit after a chapter because I was just too heartbroken (and did not know it, but was also too young). Picked it up and finished it this April (2023) after Stampede clobbered me and I fell off the "we don't talk about wolfwood" wagon. The second story is a direct sequel to tie up some loose ends from the first one, and also to indulge my need for a proper happy ending. (I think a lot of folks don't realize Someday has a sequel but it does!!) 

Black is the Color and Mysterious Ways

Trimax Canon. Resurrection/Fix-it/Angstmance with a much shorter, sillier, smuttier epilogue. Three years after the end of Trigun Maximum, Vash is having some trouble laying his ghosts to rest. (You may have seen this incredible artwork which has gotten around a bit and boosts the story better than any summary of mine possibly could.) Weird things happened when I was writing this, I don't mind telling you. Mysterious Ways was mostly an excuse to explore some of the more interesting concepts brought up by the first one, but saying anything more would be spoilery. 

Eyes of the Storm

(Mostly) Trimax canon. Cryptid Vash AU, slowburn romance, ongoing. When Nicholas D. Wolfwood gets roped into being the new caretaker for the now-abandoned orphanage where he spent his childhood, he soon finds out that his own hidden memories are not the only thing haunting him. (What the fuck is a Typhoon?) Wolfwood, Vash, Livio, Elendira, et al. This is the one currently in progress at six chapters out of ??. Pretty SFW so far BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER CAVEAT LECTOR. 

List continues with standalone and shorter fics below the cut!

Honeymoon

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Plant Heat, Wingfic, Tentacle Fic, What the fuck is Hay Fever. Wolfwood offers to help Vash out with a personal problem and gets a little more than he bargained for. 

Strange Powers

Generic Trimax/98 setting, comedy/smut/potato jokes/fisting with a loaded prosthetic. What if Vash and Wolfwood (accidentally) got really, really hella high? 

Hurricane

Trigun '98 Canon. 

Vash: Make money? As a priest?

WW: Well. *mysteriously* Not only that. 

Vash: (oh my gosh he's a prostitute)

Shortfic. Wolfwood tries to figure out how to offer his services to someone he doesn't really want to be a paying customer. Short and smutty while also demolishing Wolfwood's professional boundaries.

Skin Tight

Generic Trimax/98 setting. The Infamous Red Dress. PWP, Wolfwood needs to be in the Vash Sensory Deprivation Tank, Vash in high heels, the dress gave its life for this fic you should read it and honor its sacrifice. Look. This is just porn, guys. You want the porny fic? This is the porny fic. (just kidding most of them are porny fics but this one is especially so.) 

Secondhand Secrets

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Introspective/Vignette/Wolfwood POV. Vash's artificial arm always moves in his sleep, and Wolfwood wonders what he's looking for.

Personal Jesus

Badlands Rumble canon (post-film), Wolfwood has poor emotional coping strategies, hurt/comfort (Wolfwood provides both), first-time. That red hotel minifridge never stood a chance. 

A Fool From Any Direction

Trigun '98 Vash's weird horny schtick is a front, and self-respect doesn't save lives. Which is too bad because when Wolfwood finds out what Vash is planning next he's gonna kill him. 

Benediction

Trimax but could also be '98; Sometimes being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be. Or maybe Vash is the one cracking up. Hurt/Comfort, Wound Care & Bible Quotes, Noman's Land is a bitch of a planet. Shortfic, feels, non-explicit/no sex. 

A Bit of a Tight Spot

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Costume Porn, PWP, No corsets were harmed in the making of this fic. I feel like this one gets missed a lot which is MADDENING because you guys. WOLFWOOD'S DOUBLE Ds IN A CORSET. And like, in a gender euphoria way, not in a comedy drag kind of way (though comedy drag does make a small appearance). I don't know how the good minister tightlaced in cuban stockings while giving Vash a blowjob in front of a mirror in the attic of a whorehouse can get so often overlooked, maybe my title or summary is lacking, but it's one of the hottest things I've ever written and its engagement is just in the basement? When (emphatic baffled hand motions to Nicholas D. Wolfwood wearing a garter like a thigh-holster). Anyway. 

The Quick and the Bed

Trigun '98 Comedy, Romance, First Time. The single bed trope. Drunk Idiocy. Wolfwood's vows are in serious danger. (Wolfwood does not have vows.) Readers have let me know that they find this one amusing. Roommates of readers have sent me threats of bodily harm due to badly-stifled hysterical laughter at 3am. 

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW MORE STORIES WILL BE ADDED AS THEY OCCUR!

SMALL DISCLAIMER: I'm a full-time working writer and my fanfic is something I give away for free out of love. Please don't copy, alter, plagiarize, feed to AI in any form, fold, spindle, or mutilate. I'm not in the market for concrit, but if you like my stories please feel free to leave me a comment/kudo, download/print/fanbind for personal use, or let other readers know!

[sizzlerseth]

Shopping

Summary: Trying on some clothes! With your favorite ler, what could go wrong?

You stare outside the window with your fist on your chin. The window is slightly warm, but it doesn't burn you.

"How long has it been? Two days?" I said, my hands on the wheel.

I was driving you to the mall. You were angry at me because I had forgotten to do the dishes two days ago.

"But you won't apologize." You glanced to the driver's seat, looking for my reaction. I had only opened my mouth, but closed it again.

"I'm sorry." I said, pretty sincerely, but not sincere enough to get forgiveness just yet.

"Maybe I can help you with something, then would we be even?" I looked over as much as I could without creating a big danger.

You finally turned over to face me, but not making eye contact. "Yeah I guess. I could use it, maybe."

"M-kay, so what should I do?" I made a right turn at a light.

The black exterior of the car was bad for the summer, making it a bit hot. I turned on the air conditioner, and you positioned your fans toward you.

"It's getting hot these days, so I was thinking of getting some cooler shirts." You leaned back in your seat.

"Sure!" The car slowed as we reached our destination.

After parking both of us exited the car, walking the short walk in-between the parking lot and the large shop.

The shop was a beige color, and the bricks were a bit rocky seeming. The super-store expanded the length of the parking lot, and was one story tall. There were 3 different entrances, and we walked toward the center one. The glass was slightly blue, and it reflected the puffy clouds in the sky.

As we entered the large market, there was a small beep. I grabbed your hand and we walked through the long aisles to the clothing section at the back. You had a tiny flinch, but you didn't let go.

I squeezed your hand as we stepped between stands of tank tops and shirts, grabbing one or two every once in a while. We stopped suddenly, nearing the dressing room.

"Ok wait here," You said gesturing towards a bench beside the red curtains of the dressing room.

I sat down, crossing my arms slightly impatiently, but you were quick at changing and came out in a navy blue crop top.

"Wow, niceeee" I walked in circles around you. "You look really good in-"

Your brain blocked out the rest, because something heavenly and hellish at the same time touches your uncovered armpit, and you can't even flinch before you whirl around, grabbing my hand, but it's too late. My other hand has already made its target, and softly falls to your tummy.

The little scribbles as if I'm a kid drawing with Crayola's are forcing your throat to close up as you desperately try to stop the ripples of little giggles and snorts.

"StoP, STOHOJAHAHP RIGHIITAH NOWWOWOW" As you open your mouth to speak, hell breaks out and you can no longer hold it back.

Each of your nerves cry for attention but they also scream in joy and terror as I make contact with your upper thighs. You almost SHRIEK in joy as I roughly dig into your muscles, like a massage, but in no way relaxing.

"Aw, stop trying to grab my hands, I know you love this, so stop trying to take this away from yourself." You had thought you had gotten away from my teases this time, but now you were blushing and flailing all over. You would've thought that people would be staring by now, but the store was surprisingly empty.

"EEK, GUHSHA" You rolled over, protecting your overworked tummy, but suddenly, your legs were completely immobilized as I locked my thighs around yours and rocketed onto your sides.

The tingling was so bad that your eyes were locked closed at this point, and you thought you wouldn't even have enough time to try on the other clothes.

You wriggled, not whatsoever in control of your body.

I had stopped directly tickling you, but the ghost tickles kept you rolling for a whole minute. "STOHHOHOP, STOP STOP-" You gasped for breath, the moment your body finally caught up to the fact that I hadn't touched you in multiple minutes.

You gave me a punch as you ran back into the changing room to avoid any more public embarrassment. Not that anyone had seen you. Actually, no one was even around to hear you... Actually, maybe it wasn't so bad...

You tried a few more shirts on, extremely careful to make sure all your weak points were covered, avoiding any tank tops or crop tops.

You could tell I was a bit disappointed, but what were you to care. He had tickled you. IN PUBLIC TOO! He deserved this. After the on edge dressing, we went to the cashier and started ringing up a few shirts.

Suddenly, I spotted a navy blue crop top. You could tell I had noticed it because I gave you a look of total slyness that you wished you could tear right off of my face.

You ran to the car, avoiding any chance of torture, but in the car, you were forced to sit only a foot away, and you knew what you were gonna get.

"TICKLE, TICKLE, TICKLE" I softly scratch at your specifically covered stomach, lifting your arms, somehow fast enough you can't even wriggle.

You jump backward trying to get away, but the door stops you from moving. Almost as if you have your seat belt, you couldn't move at all, enhancing every little nerve activation. You silently screamed.

"Aw, come on. I knowwwww you love it, why did you get the shirt if not?" I grinned. "Can't you just tell it to me, 'I want you to destroy me with tickles?'"

'OH MY GOSH IF HE DOESN'T SHUT UP RIGHT NOWWOWOW I'LL-HAHAHAHH' You think, completely confused how you were even laughing in your mind?

Suddenly you feel your shoes slide off, and you're allowed a moment of panic before little waves of dots and dashes rush into the sensitive skin on the bottom of your feet. You stop yelling to yelp and you kick as hard as you can, but the hands just fall onto your tummy.

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to speak- Now just tell me, look into my eyes and give me a big laugh, and I'll know you lovvveeee it~"

Surely your face is as red as a literal fire, and you're sure it's as hot as one. Every single nerve is burning in desire of tickles and desire that the tickles will stop, relieving you of this torture.

"Aww, your screaming turned into your adorable laughter, just like I asked. You would ask for this everyday if you could get the courage, wouldn't you my tickle bug."

You have NO idea how I can just say tickle, and you feel like the surface of the sun. You are melted and no longer even have the energy to wriggle, just sitting on your seat. You think that it's ended, but little tingles remain, as if your body doesn't accept that it's ended. You suddenly sway, the car starting to move, but you can't even buckle yourself.

You close your eyes, giggling as little ghost tingles take you over.

[sunasite]

with loss, comes love.

yandere!concubine x gn!reader

wc: ~1.0k

You were dressed in commoner's clothes, a big change from your usual royal attire. The plain, desaturated colours helped you blend in amongst the many people in the tavern. It wasn't the cheap kind, you're not sure you knew how to navigate those, but it was enough that nobody batted an eye at you.

You were sitting in the very corner of the place with a few empty glasses on the table in front of you. You normally didn't drink this much, and they (your adviser, your personal knight, and... well, everyone else) tried persuading you out of it, but they laid off once they saw your tired eyes, devoid of anything but grief. They could let you off just this once. Grief is very hard to deal with, after all, and everyone grieves in different ways. Maybe this was yours, they thought.

You were sleepy, and bordering drunk. You held your alcohol well, but tonight you had too much in your system. Exactly what you needed, after dealing with the loss of your parents. A distraction. You weren't sure the alcohol was enough, but you didn't need to worry about that. Not when somebody suddenly took the seat in front of you, making you lift your head from your arms, resting on the table.

A vaguely familiar face was smiling at you, sharp yet kind eyes gazing at you far too affectionately for a stranger. Ah, you know him, you think. He's from the one of the rich families whose parents your own were close to. You never bothered trying to get close to them and their only son, who was a couple years older than you, but you knew they were nice if your parents had nothing bad to say about them. They weren't nobles, though they were well off. A family of merchants, if you remember correctly.

"Florent Monet, if my memory serves me right," you murmured, uncaring if your words were slurring together. Now that you got a better look at him, he was very beautiful, even in this dull light; freckles scattered across his tanned skin, perfectly pink lips, expressive dark eyes, and a long blue earring adorning his right ear. His long black hair cascaded down his shoulders, as he runs a finger through it, as if to show 'yes, that's me'.

"What a surprise seeing you here, Your Majesty," he said, with a gentle smile on his face, and perhaps a hint of sympathy in his eyes if you bothered looking closer. "But I suppose grief is kind to no one. I'm truly sorry for your loss, I can't begin to imagine how it feels."

You let out a heavy sigh, as if you were suddenly reminded why you were here in the first place. You take another swig.

"No, I suppose not," you hadn't meant to be snappy, but it's not like you were in the right mind. Florent had both his parents, and they were thriving so no, he can't know how you feel. Immediately after though, you catch yourself, reminding yourself that he was a family friend, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

His eyes met yours; they were understanding... and kind.

He waved you off, "No, do not apologize. I know you're not feeling like yourself right now, so I understand," Florent's voice was peaceful, but with a teasing undertone that you suspect is always present.

You sent him a gentle, grateful smile, but you didn't notice the way his eyes widened ever so slightly. You didn't notice the way he subtly licked his lips. And you certainly didn't notice the way his heart sped up at the sight of your smile. He's been wanting to get close to you all these years, and now was his chance. You were so close yet so far; you were always within vicinity, yet the second he reaches out... he misses you by a hair, his fingertips chasing the ghost of you. After years of gazing at you longingly, desperately needing your attention (which was always elsewhere, the child of the Emperor was always busy), he finally had his opening.

"Thank you, really. I feel... bad that you had to catch me in this state, but it— it can't be helped," you tripped over your words as you find a way to avoid mentioning your reason for your grief.

Florent takes your right hand in his— his touch so soft and gentle. You can't help but tighten your grip slightly, desperate for any kind of comfort. He seemed to sense that, as he carefully cups your cheek in his free hand.

He's warm, you thought, and kind.

You catch yourself leaning into his touch, as his warmth was just so inviting. Your eyelids feel heavier, but you're not sleepy anymore. You hear your heart racing, and you hope he can't feel it too. Why, you wondered, why is it so fast?

Oh, he's getting closer to you. Your noses were only a hair's width apart, and you can feel him breathe in.. and breathe out shallowly. You don't want to push him away.

"If you'd let me help you, Your Majesty, I will. I'll give you a distraction, if that's what you need," his words were breathy and quiet, and if you were more sober you would probably notice an ulterior motive. But you weren't, and you were hungry for comfort, affection, whatever it may be. "Just allow me, and I will give all of myself to you."

You lean in, slowly shutting your eyes until your lips meet his. His lips were soft, just like his touch. And suddenly you needed more; more of him, more of his lips, more of his words. Tonight, Florent was all you could see— all you could feel.

You brought him back to your room, and anyone could take a guess what happened there. The knowing looks your staff shared didn't go unnoticed, but you didn't have it in you to care nor tell them off. After all, all your attention was on Florent. From his honey voice to his melodious moans, all you could hear was him.

If you were more sober, you would have seen the sheer emotion that clouded his eyes; it could have been something akin to love. Something worse or better than love, it didn't matter, for you've found what you were looking for tonight: a distraction. And if he played his cards right, he would be your distraction tonight, and forever.

you've now met: Florent Monet, your devoted concubine.

[rpmemes-galore]

taylor swift : reputation album ... sentence starters

"Are you ready for it?"

"No one has to know."

"Call it what you want to."

"I wanna be your end game."

"Is it cool that I said all that?"

"I don't like your little games."

"I'm just gonna call you mine."

"Now all he thinks about is me."

"For you, I would cross the line."

"I let them think they saved me."

"My castle crumbled overnight."

"I'm doing better than I ever was."

"Look what you just made me do."

"But, darling, it's going to be okay."

"Gold cage, hostage to my feelings."

"All my flowers grew back as thorns."

"You should take it as a compliment."

"Touch me and you'll never be alone."

"You and me, we got big reputations."

"Reputation precedes me, in rumors."

"But what can I say? You're gorgeous."

"I don't wanna be just another ex-love."

"Don't blame me, love made me crazy."

"Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share."

"Oh, damn, never seen that color blue."

"They say, 'She's gone too far this time!'"

"I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose."

"You've ruined my life by not being mine."

"They fade to nothing when I look at him."

"Say my name and everything just stops."

"Just think of the fun things we could do."

"I never trust a playboy, but they love me."

"Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours."

"So why'd you have to rain on my parade?"

"The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury."

"I'm one call away whenever you need me."

"If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing."

"Do the girls back home touch you like I do?"

"I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me."

"But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom."

"It was the best of times, the worst of crimes."

"Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him."

"This is why we can't have nice things, darling."

"I once was poison ivy, but now, I'm your daisy."

"Only bought this dress so you could take it off."

"You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much."

"I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted."

"The truth is, it’s easier to ignore it, believe me."

"And there are no rules when you show up here."

"I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone."

"If life gets too good now, darling, it scares you."

"Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me."

"I don't regret it one bit 'cause he had it coming."

"Every love I've known in comparison is a failure."

"'Cause for every lie I tell them, they tell me three."

"I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way."

"Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time."

"Younger than my exes, but he acts like such a man."

"He really knows me. Which is more than they can say."

"They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one."

"And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you."

"You know I'm not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you."

"Wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted."

"Some boys are trying too hard, he don't try at all, though."

"Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep."

"They say I did something bad. Then why's it feel so good?"

"I don't like your perfect crime, how you laugh when you lie."

"Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate."

"Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?"

"My reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me."

"They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons."

"This is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left."

"I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny."

"You asked me for a place to sleep, locked me out, and threw a feast."

"You promise people the world, because that's what they want from you."

"We can't make any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink."

"In the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do, baby."

"Please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere."

"And all at once, you're all I want, I'll never let you go… King of my heart, body and soul."

"I'm sorry, the old (name) can't come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, 'cause she's dead!"

"I'll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe. Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home."

"There I was, giving you a second chance. But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand."

"I've been breaking hearts a long time and toying with them older guys. Just playthings for me to use."

"And I know I make the same mistakes every time. Bridges burn, I never learn... at least I did one thing right."

[iamamythologicalcreature]

An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

(Not like I need the assistance, but I'm so thrilled to be thought of as a writer that I'm totally doing this.)

Thank you so much for the invites @aristocratic-otter, @bookish-bogwitch, @shrekgogurt, @ic3-que3n, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @drowninginships, @best--dress, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @whatevertheweather, and @youarenevertooold! (I think I might be the last one in the 'verse doing this, but that won't stop me from tagging more people at the end.) I've loved reading everyone's answers!

Okay. Here we go. I am absolutely using my flimsy claim to authorhood to answer these. >.>

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

The Haunting of Simon Snow

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Construction Worker!Simon + haunted manor house = a most interesting summer job

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Well, it's a ghost story. You can draw some conclusions from that.

4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

A Victorian's Gothic

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

It sure as hell better be Haunting. I mean, my goodness, it's looped around my brain like a too-patient boa constrictor, just sloooowly squeezing.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

snowbaz.scriv is my catch-all Scrivener file for all ficcy things

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

There’s a person that I used to be. Magic I used to hold, magic that held me. I have done everything I can to forget that feeling, because it was never supposed to be mine. I was never magic. He’s magic. He’s magic, and I can almost touch him. He’s magic, and he can almost hold me. I live on the edge of almost all the time, so that’s enough. (It’s never enough.)

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

This was originally planned as a story written in letters. (Doing that with something else, now, and it works way better in a different story.)

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I'm going to stick to snowbaz fanfic for this, because if I broaden it any further, this list will instantly become quite long. (I have a lot of original story ideas.) For snowbaz, though? Well, there's the one I'm planning for COTTA. There are a couple AU's that I've written way too many notes on. And then a Fangirl crossover fic that I sincerely hope to someday write. (Technically I started it, but only a few hundred words at this point.)

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

Actively? One. Maybe two. Kinda thinking two, but the second one is new and more of a game at this point, so we'll see. (Not quite so actively I also have my Baz fic, my "Silence" fic where Baz successfully steals Simon's voice. It's roughly (super roughly) outlined, and I've written several scenes, but it's on the back-burner for Haunting. And COTTA. No more new fics after that, though! I really want to tell that story!)

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

That's funny. What a question. XD YES. Yes, there are scenes. I'm designing Pitch Manor to get through this damned scene LOL

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

Thankee kindly!

On the off chance there are any fic writers left out there who haven't yet done this... Tags! @mooncello, @cutestkilla, @blackberrysummerblog, @hushed-chorus, @fatalfangirl, @onepintobean, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii, anyone else who wants to. Cheers!

[manderleyfire]

'panem lost a poet panem lost a standup comedian' lmaoooooooo what are your favorite Coriolanus’ unhinged quotes from tbosas?? I cackled so much during that rather dark book, I feel embarrassed, lol

He had to think of just the right way to break the news. But what would that be? 'I love you deeply, but I love officers’ school more?' That wasn’t going to go over well.

Did you tell your best friend his crush was a cannibal? Never a rule book when you needed one.

AH, TRUST AGAIN. ThE aIr WaS fUlL oF iT.

Coriolanus winced slightly. TWO biking mishaps in the same twelve-hour period seemed more than coincidental.

This entrance was for the poor people, Coriolanus thought. Or perhaps not poor. The word PLEBEIAN came to mind. (those history classes did nothing for him)

PASSING OUT SANDWICHES WAS ONE THING, THROWING THE CHAIR QUITE ANOTHER (sorry, i'm in tears, xDDD)

Snow lands on top and ALL THAT. He knew he should be elated at this turn of events and jumping up and down inside while p r e s e n t i n g a modest, pleased front. But what he really felt was jEaLoUs.

THE HERO OF HER LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

The i m p o s s i b i l i t y of being a Snowflake in this postwar world.

And here he was in his uniform, clutching a rose like some lovestruck schoolboy, hoping she would — what? Like him? Trust him? Not kill him on sight?

Good-bye, Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you (biiiiiiitch 🔪)

So now that loudmouth Arachne was a defender of a righteous and just land. Yes, she laid down her life taunting her tribute with a sandwich, thought Coriolanus. Maybe her gravestone could read, “Casualty of cheap laughs.”

BETTER OFF SAD THAN DEAD

Coriolanus did not want to spend the next twenty years listening to them *mockingjays* serenade the local executions.

What was he doing but dressing her up to be a pretty corpse? Perhaps she could strangle someone with the scarf, or stab them with the pin?

HIS OWN FANS HAD A LITTLE MORE CLASS (rich boy™)

The LAST TIME Sejanus had lost his appetite, he’d lost his sanity as well.

Who were all these PeOpLe hanging around on a weekday at the zoo? Didn’t they have jobs? Shouldn’t the children be in chool? No wonder the country was such a mess.

What an ugly place, he thought dully as the train chugged its way through District 9. It didn’t look fit for human habitation.

Coriolanus gave the camera a thumbs-up when they cut for his reaction. He could not believe THIS was his life.

How much bread had they wasted with this nonsense? Oh, no, he starved to death! Somebody get the bread!

CORIOLANUS SNOW, MORE LONER THAN LOVER (whatta slogan for his presidential campaign)

How awful, Coriolanus thought. To have YOU be the first person in the world a baby sees *about dr. gaul*

Why would evil incarnate help his girlfriend?

In rhetoric class, she’d once attributed his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem to the fact that he was too self-absorbed. The irony, coming from Livia, of all people! But actions spoke louder than words. Coriolanus to the rescue, Livia to the nearest exit.

“Of course I liked it, but I’m more open-minded than most" (hahahaha)

Then came confusion. If she had saved his life, he owed her, what? A sandwich and two cookies? That was how he was repaying her. For his life. Which apparently he held quite cheaply.

Oh, a ghost story. Ugh. Boo. So ridiculous.

Ma? Was Coriolanus’s place about to be uSuRpEd by someone who referred to his mother as “Ma”? The cabbage and posca threatened to make a reappearance.

CANNIBALS OVER CUTTHROATS!

several people took the pained look on Coriolanus’s face as sorrow at Arachne’s death, when ironically he felt like killing her all over again.

“That was some good-bye.” Coriolanus just shrugged. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

Poor Sejanus. Poor sensitive, foolish, dead Sejanus. (GUNSHOT 💀💀💀)