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#to the ask who wanted long haired Ghost.. this is the longest he (and I) can bear
jiminrings · 1 year
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478 drabble: babymaking
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alternatively, you and jungkook step towards the next stage.
[ 98% smut, unprotected sex, oral, typical 478!jk cockiness, he’s a little mean but he makes up for it, hints of possessiveness, one (1) impulsive insecure thought making a cameo, jungkook wants to be loved ]
[ 478 masterlist ]
For the past month, Jungkook can’t be around you without tensing up.
He’s positive that he loves you so much to the point that he’s going crazy, yearning for you even if you were only an arm’s reach away. Both your knees could already be pressed together with how he crams your space even in a huge couch, but it still wouldn’t be enough.
Jungkook doesn’t know when enough is enough when it comes to you. He’s entirely sure that there’s an adjective yet to be coined with how he’s beyond smitten with you, the itch in his palms to just be close to you growing tenfold the past month alone.
There’s no alarm in his brain when he’s making your lunches to remind him that he’s made you too much side dishes. He doesn’t hear any beeping in his subconscious when he becomes your shadow the second you come home, instantly becoming your yes man to everything, simply because he feels like he just can’t get enough of you.
Even from your side of the equation, there’s no exact explanation you can pin behind your husband’s newfound and intensified attachment to you. Whatever it was though, you’re fully in on it.
Jungkook feels like the walls would cave in if he doesn’t latch to you the moment his eyes land on your figure, hugging you from behind with a yearning that would have his arms wrap around your tummy. He thinks the world would end if he doesn’t bury his face in the crook of your neck, nosing a particular spot before he lets out a ghost of a whine and the most longing of kisses on it.
Jungkook’s longing for you, more of you, so much so that he can’t even go to sleep with the desire that keeps him tossing and turning until he builds enough of the crazed desperation to bring it up to you.
Your husband shakes you awake in the middle of the night, full-on knowing that you have an early shoot in the morning but he was just that desperate to ask you that he can swallow the tiny guilt of interrupting your sleep.
You don’t have to turn the big light on because even with the dim pink glow of your lamp, you could see this desperately committed look on Jungkook’s face that has his eyes dilated. He’s trying his hardest to look and sound casual, propped up by a pillow that does little to cushion the fact that he’s literally trembling just at the prospect of popping the question.
“Hypothetically asking,” he coughs, swallowing the lump on his throat that’s been there unsatiated for the past month. “We’ve had this conversation even before we got married, by the way.”
The gears in your head turn immediately but they don’t dare to cross into the worst possible scenarios because Jungkook immediately adds to his thought process, the words spilling out with a kind of fervor that’s unmistakeable. 
“Do you want a baby with me?” 
The fuzz in his brain turns quiet the moment he finally relieved what was weighing on his chest for the longest time, the nervousness detaching from his voice but never fully.
He’s unguarded but it’s okay because it’s with you anyways, the stunned look on your face highlighting the fact that your pupils are blown but you don’t look the least bit unpleasant.
Your husband is unguarded even with his hair tousled from tossing and turning and his glasses perched haphazardly on his nosebridge, but you don’t mind. You’re unguarded and yet it doesn’t matter because the moment Jungkook had finally let on what was unfolding in his mind, you’ve never felt more secure.
“It’s up to you, of course. But I really, really want to add to our family,” he murmurs, briefly interrupted by the cat who’s taking her sweet time to stretch (only to go back to loafing into her sleep) between the two of you. “I know you think you birthed Miso, but I mean really our baby this time.”
In the most unguarded and rawest of contexts for your husband to propose trying for a baby, Jungkook has never been more of your forever soulmate than now.
“I wanna put a baby in you,” Jungkook makes clear, the grin on his face steadily turning into a smirk when he sees you build up into a knowing smile. “You want that too? Wanna let me make you a mommy?”
The nod that you give almost gives you a headache but it does pry out a laugh from him, pulling you closer to him before you could put your agreement into words.
“Of course I do,” you hum, the warmth and sense of belonging you feel all over your body coming into full bloom. “I’d want nothing more.”
Jungkook’s on top of the world even if he’s only sharing a bed with you right now, pecking little kisses to your cheek so somberly that you forget there was even a flash of this primal, urgent desire on his eyes just awhile ago. “Let’s talk about it more in the morning.”
The thing is that you do talk in the morning, in between you just barely dressing yourself from the shower and Jungkook barely just saving your meal from being burnt. Nothing happened last night except for the needy yet sleepy makeout session that knocked out the both of you already, the prior conversation enough to make you sleep with a smile on your face.
You’re ready, your situation’s ideal, and the most important factor of them all is that you’re secure. You’re at the edge of your seat just thinking about your future, which who knows could be exactly nine months from now, and yet —
Your husband flipped a switch once again.
It’s only barely noticeable but you know that something’s off and you know he notices that you’re catching on. He’s doing it on purpose, something to slowly weasel his way into your nerves with a buildup that you can’t even grasp.
Jungkook, against his raw and impassioned promises of getting you pregnant a few weeks ago, has barely been giving you the time of day.
In the fairest and most unbiased way you see the situation, you admit that you haven’t been as present as much as you’d like because of work. Jungkook’s used to you being swamped with work and he’s already grasped long ago that barely anything could keep you from being a workaholic. You’re used to Jungkook being accustomed to your departure at godforsaken hours of the morning and your arrival at equally as wretched hours of the evening.
Perhaps it’s the overwhelming nature of your career that drives you to dwell in your thoughts. You weren’t hallucinating when Jungkook shook you awake at midnight to ask if you wanted a baby, and you certainly weren’t daydreaming when he became too ecstatic to your response to the point that instead of snoring, he fell asleep humming.
Neither of you needed to breathe in through your nose for four seconds, hold it for seven, and exhale through your mouth for eight in order to rest. While you fell asleep to Jungkook’s warmth from embracing you like his life depended on it, your husband fell asleep from making lists in his head of the shared experiences you’ll go through once you’re pregnant.
You’ve never been more sure of having a child with Jungkook than now, and you haven’t been more certain either of the fact that your conversation did happen.
How come it’s only you that keeps repeating the conversation in your head over and over again, waiting for something to finally happen?
“Hi, baby,” Jungkook greets you from the couch when you come home instead of doing his usual routine of getting to his feet and barraging you with kisses the moment you walk through the door. You let it pass thinking that the show he was watching was just too good, rationalizing that if the tables were turned, you would’ve done the same thing.
“Wearing my shirts again?” your husband questions you nowadays when he didn’t even use to point it out. Before, he would only hide his face acting as if it hadn’t affected him in the first place, silently moving more of his clothes to your side of the closet.
You try to remind yourself that they’re just silly little things you shouldn’t get worked up on. You shouldn’t be offended when you see a container haphazardly strewn out the kitchen counter, with the traces of the chocolate ends of ice cream cones on it that Jungkook ate without leaving some for you, the wrappers shining bright as day in the trashcan. 
Of course you shouldn’t get pissed when you come home to Jungkook and Miso chasing each other around the house, their playing ceasing as soon as you want to join in. Even your cat looks disinterested at you while your husband remains perturbingly “indifferent”, the thoughts behind his eyes unreadable.
Most importantly, you should keep it in when you’ve had a long day at work and all you want is for your husband to be in your peripheral, calling for him from the bedroom while he was out watching his show to come and give you a kiss… right?
Wrong.
You can’t keep your internalized frustration from bubbling over because it literally gets you to your feet, making you march out of the bedroom with so much desperation that it makes Miso yowl and drive away from your path.
“What the hell is up with you?” you seethe the moment your eyes land on the back of Jungkook’s head, your irritation towards him having grown enough to the point that even the shape of his skull annoys you.
Your husband turns to look at you wide-eyed, but if only you weren’t simmering in frustration, you would know that his show’s been paused long ago before you even marched out. Jungkook was waiting for you and you’re right where and how he wants you.
“Aw. Is someone getting worked up?” he cloyingly drawls out, the furrow in your brows out of anger being no match for the cockiness that drips out of him endlessly. He knows what you’re getting at and it’s starting to hit you little by little, the positive trepidation that’s steadily turning into loving desperation being apparent. “Good. I wanted you to.”
Jungkook stands tall, hovering above you with provocation lingering in his tone. He tuts, frowning incessantly when he takes it a step further by putting his face closer to you to the point that your noses touch.
“My silly girl,” he sighs. “Do you think I wouldn’t deliver on my promises?” Jungkook scoffs in faux disappointment yet the both of you know that his arrogance only keeps the two of you closer. “You really assumed that I think so lightly of you?”
He’s had his fun the past few weeks. You could only bet that your husband took a liking to how you’d frown and be pissed with him from the sidelines.
You’ve been frustrated for weeks on end — you suppose Jungkook could take it even for just a few minutes.
“Yeah, pretty much. You think you’re all that, Jungkook, but trust me-…” you retort, being interrupted almost instantly.
“Someone’s really huffy, huh?” he tilts his head, nosing along your cheek until he reaches the shell of your ear. “No, baby, trust me.”
In one swift move, you unlatch yourself from his hold, and although it physically pains you to be even a centimeter away from him when you’re this needy for him, it ticks Jungkook even more.
“You took your sweet time provoking me. What would you know about trust?”
“I trust myself to fix that attitude of yours,” Jungkook grits, having you back in his arms before you could even register it. His hands cup your cheeks with the most determined, desperate gaze in his eyes. He enunciates his words as if you couldn’t understand them, a sickeningly sweet smirk accompanying his face afterwards. “I trust myself to have you filled up by tonight.”
He’s arrogant in a way that you haven’t ever seen before. Sure, he does puff his chest every now and then when he comes to your sets and he has to make it known to your co-star that he’s your husband in real life, but nothing to this degree. 
The arrogance that drips right out of Jungkook is intimidating, addictive even. He’s so sure of himself and his passioned promise to you to fuck you senseless that you try not to quiver on the spot.
“Is that it?” your voice remains stable even if there’s a shakiness underneath it, an attempt of a huff following your words.
“Is that it?” Jungkook echoes, bordering into a scoff the longer he looks at the unimpressed look on your face. You’re only playing, of course, but your husband doesn’t seem to catch on. He thought he was teeming with self-control when he managed to tamp down his desires to breed you for the past few weeks, but now — now when it’s you who attempts to play the game with him, he’s the least bit impressed. “I think you’re forgetting what your husband’s capable of.”
Jungkook can talk himself up but so can you, the faint idea that crosses your head coming into fruition. You’re only playing, except at such a crucial point of him yearning for you in more ways than one, you’re unknowingly treading into a dangerous territory.
“He knows how to diligently wait for me by the door. You know, like a-…”
“A househusband?” he interjects, taking the sweet smile on your face as your way of making up for underestimating him. He’s mistaken though because as soon as you open your mouth, he only feels himself falling in deeper.
“I was gonna say pet, but househusband works too.”
The way that Jungkook looks down on you with a cloying smile puts shudders in your spine, the warmth in your stomach fluttering downwards intensely when he looks at you from head to toe.
“Charming,” he hums nonchalantly, running his large hands up and down your arms before settling on the small of your back. He holds you so tightly that you’re pressed to him directly, the pressure so large that you’re gonna be squeezed if you don’t jump. The squeak that leaves you immediately turns into a contented sigh when Jungkook catches you snugly, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear all the way to your lips.
Your eyes cross just by how close he is to you and Jungkook’s arrogant when he sees the sheer need in your face to kiss him, indulging you deeply with his tongue down your throat. He kisses you like he’s parched; akin to an overeager husband who wants to give you everything that you want, except he’s exactly the model for it at the moment.
There’s always been desperation to how Jungkook loves you through his touches but this time you can trace it and yet whatever you do, the passion he’s rooting from is endless. He chases your lips until he’s certain your short of breath, his lips red and puffy pulling into a mocking frown.
“I don’t give you a hundred percent of my attention for just one second and now you’re being all mean,” he drawls, your brain turning into mush for a second to even remember that you were just likening him to a pet before he made you quiet.
“You’re mean,” you huff pathetically, threatening to come out of his hold with your eyes but you both know that it’s the last thing you want to do, especially now that he opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed.
Jungkook’s certain that you don’t know exactly what you do to him, your genuine obliviousness at times kickstarting this urge in him to show you precisely.
“This is mean to you?” he laughs, his voice dropping down a notch that it makes you sink further down to the bed. “I haven’t even showed you what rude looks like.”
The thing with your husband is that he’s infuriating. He’s infuriating now that he takes off his shirt and he lets you know how exactly he puts in the work when you aren’t home, his body broad and toned. He’s infuriating when his inked arms flex even if he doesn’t do it intentionally. He’s even more infuriating when he’s laughing at you, the cockiness in his persona so loud that you ache just at the thought of it.
“Should I be rude and rip out your clothes?” he hums, getting you out of your shirt and your pants swiftly. He’s calm yet he’s quick, and if you aren’t consumed with the thought of your husband devouring you alive right now, you’d notice the way his fingers tremble at anticipation when he unlatches your bra. “Or should I be mean and make you wait?”
Jungkook pulls down your panty with his initials on it, his tongue swiping the bottom of his teeth in gloating. One night, he had the idea of stitching JJK on atleast half of your panties, the waistbands of them being adorned with pink thread. It goes straight to his head (and his cock) at the thought of you wearing his initials, hidden with only the intention of him being able to see.
Despite already being naked fully, Jungkook’s lips goes straight to the column of your neck, kissing down and down until you realize that he lingers at the skin, mouth biting and suckling.
“I-I have work tomorrow,” you weakly remind, the lump in your throat dissolving to a moan when he sucks at a sensitive spot right under your ear.
“No you don’t,” he chuckles, the sound going straight to your core. He’s hovering above you in only his sweatpants yet there’s already a bulging clue that he’s dying to touch you already. At this point, he’s only prolonging the aching desperation between the two of you. “Two weeks ago, I called Jimin to tell him that you’re going on a week-long break.”
“What?” you murmur, back arching when Jungkook gets to your chest, his tongue licking a bold stripe right on your cleavage. He squeezes your boobs together and it’s a lewd sight the way he moans at the picture, lips frantically alternating between your nipples. Your voice is strained already, your attempt at keeping your pride shattered when he nips at you. 
“Mhmm. I have you all to myself,” he confirms, eyes lulling closed when he sucks at your bud. He’s salivating at the thought that your boobs would soon be full, even fuller than they are now and he’ll get to bury his face between them. He lifts his head begrudgingly, the chuckle that leaves him being gargled. He can’t get enough of you — he just can’t. “Not bad for a pet waiting around for you, hm?”
“Baby, please,” you moan when Jungkook’s lips ghost over your midriff all the way to your pussy, his back arched in the air to have his mouth on your core yet his palms squeezing your boobs tightly. He rubs the soft pads of his fingers against your nipples roughly, tugging at the last minute when he pulls away that you tangle your fingers with his long hair.
It’s an infuriatingly warm sight to see your husband looking up at you with such a desperate and demanding gaze on his eyes, framed even more by the way his hair curls around his visage. You ought to tug at them if only he didn’t have the upper hand on you now, hands quite literally prying your legs open so he’s head-on with your pussy.
“You’ve been so patient too. You tell me you hate me for ignoring you but you haven’t even touched yourself,” he snickers, licking his lips when he looks at your pretty core underneath this light. You’re pulsating around nothing and just dying to be touched, setting a lump on his throat when he follows your wetness trickling down your thighs. “It’s like you know that you can’t cum without me.”
“I-I can cum without you,” you argue, breath hitching when Jungkook comes closer to lick at the wetness that’s gathered on your thighs, the graze of his teeth tearing out a moan from you.
“You do?” he pouts, eyes mocking you even at this angle. They’re wide and they’re burning right through you, the derisive tone behind his words just fueling you more and more to have him in you. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I go to sleep right now?”
“Jungkook,” you whine, eyes glossing at frustration. You’re so close to throwing a tantrum, he figures. Your torso slightly lifts just for you to show you’re upset at him, plopping back down the mattress in annoyance. “You’re mean.”
“That’s what I thought,” he hums, the smile on his face accentuated with his lips that are bitten red and wet from the amount of times he’s gnawed on them. “Of course I’ll take care of you, baby. Who’s gonna get you pregnant if I’m leaving you to it alone?”
Jungkook takes off his sweatpants, his thick thighs unconsciously flexing from his position to kiss you. Without further warning, Jungkook laps right at your pussy, his doe eyes looking up at you in close attention. His nose nudges your clit, and being deprived of your husband’s touch for so long, you instantly jolt.
“You missed me so bad,” he lulls, diving in to take your clit to his mouth. He closes his eyes while he feasts on you and it’s almost pornographic the way his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure just by giving you it, sucking your clit tightly with no breaks in between.
It brings you close to tears the way he drinks you in and makes a loud show with it, his moans even louder than yours. His bare cock keeps brushing against the sheets and he’s already sensitive enough as it is, the furrow on his brows getting deeper the more that he moans into your hole.
Jungkook pacifies his mouth with your clit in bliss, drinking you in with his tongue languidly shifting to pleasure you right how you want it. He doesn’t let go even when your thighs keep lifting off the bed with how euphoric it feels, his hands locking them in place above his shoulders.
“I’m gonna— gonna cum already,” you stutter in between moans, the orgasm that courses right through you making you tremble. Jungkook holds you through it, and although he slows down, his tongue remains flicking at your clit that’s already become swollen at the attention.
The sight of your cum pooling on his fingers and his chin never gets old to you because with each passing time, Jungkook makes a way to amp it up to be more scandalous than the last time. He has your cum in his hands, gathering on his wedding band that glints even further at your essence.
Jungkook merely closes his eyes in absolute bliss, sucking only his ring finger and parts the rest of them right after, shoving them into your mouth without prior warning. There’s an instant groan that leaves him when you indulge him obediently, your stifled breaths making him clench his jaw harder.
He’s painfully hard but he doesn’t want to cum just yet, wanting to reserve all of his seed for you. He almost orgasms right then and there when you paw at him needily, bottom lip slightly jutted out in begging. He sees you look at him with such desperation, meeting your eyeline that’s just begging to reciprocate. He lets on just slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip.
“Wanna blow me?” he rasps, the question being met with an eager nod. You already have your tongue out before he finishes the sentence, his strained control leaving him little by little the moment he sets the heavy head of his cock on your tongue. “Suck the tip.”
In your gratitude, you disregard Jungkook’s command completely and take him in whole, sucking all the way until his cock reaches the back of your throat and tears prick your ears.
“F-fuck!” Jungkook gutturally groans, eyes rolling back to his skull when your warmth envelopes his dick all the way through. You’re sucking him so tightly and nicely that his resolve wavers momentarily, the moans that leave him getting louder in nature.
“Baby, I said-…” he shudders when you trace the vein on his cock with a pointed tongue, the sudden change giving him his bearings back. Your husband snaps out of it even if it pains him, pulling you back by your hair. “I said, just the tip.” 
You’re pouting as you’re scolded but what really gets Jungkook is that you still look accomplished — you don’t even feel the least bit sorry for not heeding his warnings.
“You don’t even listen to me.” His hold on your hair detaches abruptly and for a moment, you miss his harshness on your scalp. You’re looking for his hand to atleast hold yet when you find it, he’s lining himself inside you. There’s not even a second left before you break out into a moan, the sudden yet welcome intrusion of his cock in your pussy giving you the greatest sense of overwhelm.
“All I ask is for you to just suck the fucking tip of my cock because I wanna cum inside you,” he grits, punctuating his words with each thrust. You’re so tight that he wants to be suffocated by you in the best way possible. “But you don’t like listening, huh?”
“I, I don’t. You’re right,” you concede, the words you’re hearing already ringing inside your head because you just can’t focus when you feel so eternal. “Jungkook, baby, please.”
“Please what? What do you want?” he airily chuckles, having to pause his cockiness when a loud moan tears right through his throat when you clench. “Come on, an actress like you should know her lines,” he snickers, his breath hitching as he quickens his pace. “Tell me what you want.”
“You-…” your eyes sting, the whines and moans stuck in your throat being continuous to the point that your attempt to swallowing them down makes them even louder. “You told me you’re gonna make me a mommy,” you blubber, shifting underneath his hold. You already have him in you but it’s not enough — it wouldn’t be until he fills you up.
“I did say that, baby. Kept you waiting long enough, I’m sorry,” Jungkook placates you, delicately kissing your cheek despite his harsh thrusts against your core. He’s momentarily soft at the reminder of the promise he made you, continuing to handle you silkily. The brief change of attitude in your husband dissipates the moment he sees the way your face scrunches in pleasure when he sinks his cock in you, deep in your pussy to the point you swear he could feel him in your stomach.
Jungkook goes back to his promise, whispering and moaning to your ear over and over again that he’ll deliver. He’s ramming into you at a ruthless pace, his thumb once again making its way to your clit to rub frantic circles.
“Isn’t is so cute that only I can do this to you?” he grunts, eyebrows furrowed while focusing on giving you the greatest possible orgasm he could ever give you. “Not one of your fucking co-stars can even dream of being with you like this when I’m in the picture. Not even Yoongi.”
You nod frantically in agreement, unable to answer verbally because it’s only your moans and cries that pry out of your throat.
“They’re jealous of me, pretty girl,” Jungkook chuckles, thighs starting to tremble at his impending release. “S-so— so bitter that I’m better than them without even having to lift a single finger.”
The arrogance that pours right out of your husband strikes your very own ego, the sleazy smile in your face reassuring him.
“I’m only yours, right?” Jungkook asks, thrusts threatening to slow down if you don’t answer him. “Just yours.”
It’s positively infuriating and heartwarming to see your husband want you to take possession of him, a stark difference even if he’s the one taking control of you right now.
You hum playfully, eyes half-lidded as you hold out your words for suspense.
“Say it,” he says pointedly, rolling his eyes before nipping at your jaw.
“I’m yours,” you drawl, brain once again going into mush when he resumes his ruthless pace. His cock’s made for you, making you squirm and melt to his hold at the same time.
“I already know that, baby,” Jungkook tuts, fishing out a different answer from you. “That’s not what I wanted you to say.”
The words finally click in your head this time, the pride in your chest growing to know that Jungkook’s so desperate for you to have him in your possession; merely declaring it would even send him to the edge.
“You’re mine.”
“Good,” he whimpers, almost seeing white with how euphoric and overstimulated he is. “One more time for me, huh? Say it again.”
“You’re mine, Jungkook,” you whisper right to his ear, your nails scratching red at his back that makes him arch further. “You’re only mine.”
“You’re so greedy,” he teases you even when you handed him on a silver platter exactly what he needed to hear, his thumb drawing deeper, faster circles on your clit. “Beg.”
Jungkook expects you to say please incessantly because the both of you know that neither can hold out for any longer, the orgasm that’s been building up in the pit of your stomach growing intense. His necklace with your initial on it dangles over your face, taunting you in anticipation.
“Love you,” you squeak, throwing your head back when you could practically feel the head of your climax appearing. Just a couple more thrusts that brush the deepest part of you and you’ll be there, your moans turning into cries.
“You’re so-…” Jungkook’s flustered for a second, his thrusts stuttering in response. Every part of his burns and it’s just this very release that’s gonna enable him to fill you up fully, the spent smile on your face egging him on.
“Say it back, come on.” 
“I love you too,” he mutters, his shyness disappearing when you make the move of lifting your legs to hook them on his shoulders. Jungkook’s the deepest in you that he’s ever been, his vision getting blurry with how good he feels.
“My perfect girl,” he mutters over and over again to your ear when you finally break, following you right after. His cock twitches inside you, plugging up your pussy as he fills you for what seems like minutes. “My cum’s yours, you get that? Keep every single drop in.”
Jungkook takes meticulous care to not let a single drop of his cum drip out of you, angling himself to be lower than you when he nuzzles his face to the crook of your neck.
It feels like forever with the both of you catching your breaths, the dampness in your eyes already long dry yet when you look down on Jungkook to see the same wetness on his eyelashes, you’re tempted to tear up then and there.
“Are you crying?” you chuckle lightly, fingers carding through his hair. His head lifts up slightly with the emotion but he tucks his face back to your neck, making you giggle.
“I’m not,” he mutters. “Shut up.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say to the mother of your future children,” you playfully tease, making him groan in compliance. Your husband finally lifts his head to you, an automatic pout placed on his face.
“I just love you, that’s all,” Jungkook sniffles, none of the usual arrogance he possesses in a post-orgasm haze to be found in his tone. He’s somber, almost, deep into his thoughts as much as he was deep in pleasure moments ago.
“If you leave me,” he starts, eyes almost crossing from how closely he looks to you. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, the sincerity in his words unable to be duplicated by anyone else. “I hope I’m not around for it.”
It’s an unwelcome thought in his head that you want to quell right at its roots, your confession just as genuine.
“My silly boy,” you tut, leaving the softest of kisses on your husband’s forehead. “If I leave you, it’d be the end of me.”
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btsworldz · 4 months
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MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE (Part Two) - Taehyung x Reader
yandere idol! taehyung x reader
delusional taehyung, taehyung x reader, idol taehyung, bts x reader, yandere taehyung, taehyung is in loooovee
Part 1 - Part 2
It was another busy day for him. Sitting in his chair, he closed his eyes as the hairdresser get his hair done. He felt his skin getting tapped at, the makeup artist must be putting in his work. He felt sleepy, but he smiled when he suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Y/n yesterday.
The makeup artist paused before continuing. He was probably freaked out on why his star had been so smiley all morning. And people who was in his small circle, knows that Taehyung rarely smile at all when it’s not on camera. Jimin, his makeup artist for the longest time needs to clarify. “The shoot for the documentary is still next week, Taehyung.”
Taehyung smiled again. “I know,” he chuckled a bit. It was mind boggling for Jimin to see him all smiley. But of course no questions, especially unnecessary one for Kim Taehyung. The man hates question if it’s not needed. Jimin liked to think that he even hates talking to him sometimes, he get a hunch even though he has never heard him say that.
After he was done with makeup, he looked at his phone. He had been staring at his phone quite a lot to be honest. And the reason was the contact phone number he just added yesterday to his personal phone. The name Jung Y/n, staring back at him through the screen. He was debating whether 9 am in the morning too early to contact a person he had just talked to yesterday until 2 am this morning.
The answer was not necessarily needed. Because without thinking Taehyung pressed the call button and put his phone in his left ear. The call was on the line, the longer the ring dragged on the more his anxiety spiked. Maybe she didn’t want to be bothered anymore. Or worse, she might have been back to Japan already. He messed with his hair at the thought and he did this without thinking because his hairstylist from across the room was already staring at him with wide eyes.
“What are you doing? Are you even okay?” Jungkook was looking at him as if he saw a ghost, his right hand already holding a brush.
Taehyung stopped messing with his hair and just dropped his hand. “It’s nothing.”
“Well it’s not nothing if it gets you antsy like this,” Jungkook murmured under his breath. “Let me fix your hair,” he simply said before he sighed.
“Why don’t someone pick up a call?” Taehyung randomly asked. His question made Jungkook stopped in his track.
Well, you are one of them. Why don’t you ask yourself? Jungkook wanted to say, but unfortunately he liked his job and most of all his salary. So instead he said, “well that someone must have been busy.”
Taehyung had that thoughtful look on his face. “Make sense,” he simply said after a long minute. Jungkook was busy doing his hair before spraying it slightly more than the last time, he did this out of spite. Taehyung put his phone down, but not even a minute he already checked his phone again and his face clearly said that he was disappointed at what he was looking at.
“You got a lover or something?” Jungkook chuckled, blurting whatever on his mind he already know the answer would be a no. Handsome was an understatement for Kim Taehyung, but God knows he can’t keep a person.
“L-Lover? Ehm, no, haha, why do you even ask that? Haha.” Taehyung looked shy, Jungkook must have lost his mind because clearly the reflection in the mirror told him that the Kim Taehyung might just have been blushing. But he clearly shook his head, it must have been an imagination. But to say the least, his answer was not one that Jungkook has predicted at all.
“Well, okay then.” Jungkook chuckled a bit, he didn’t want to pry anymore.
“What makes you think I have a… lover?” Jungkook momentarily stopped again, did he just ask him question?
“Well… you looked like you are anxious because someone didn’t pick up a call. Usually it must have been because the situation is bad or it’s a lover situation. But you didn’t just run up and leave with no explanation,” like you usually do, Jungkook wanted to add but held his tongue. “So it must have been a lover situation.”
Taehyung had this far away look. Now it was Jungkook’s turn to get anxious, he might have just offend his boss with his blabbering. “Well, but I could’ve just get that out of my ass. So… it could be wrong. Sorry for assuming, boss.” Jungkook made sure that he made it clear that Taehyung was the boss in this conversation, he really loves his job.
“Right… a lover, you say…” Taehyung said, almost to himself. Taehyung had this urge to smile, he didn’t know why. Maybe another theory to find out, more reasons to call her more he thought to himself.
Right when he was about to press call again. His phone ringing and the caller id name showed up. His face lit up when Y/n was written in it. He picked up on the first ring without much thinking.
“Where are you? Why are you not picking up your phone? Are you okay? Hi!” Taehyung said this all in one breath, a big smile on his face stared back at him on the mirror. And so did Jungkook’s shocked face with a gaping mouth.
Taehyung stood up and begin walking around the room while his phone clutched on his hand and pressed tightly onto his ear, Jungkook could swore his veins could be seen from how tight he was holding his phone. Lucky for the room only has two people in it, Jungkook and Jimin, coincidentally two people who loved their job and wouldn’t sell this piece of information to the press because of it.
“I’m sorry Tae! I got a call from my old job… and they say they considered taking me back. I’m honestly- I don’t know what to do, really. Sorry for not answering your call. Are you okay?”
Taehyung’s almost feel like he wanted to be where you are right now. Scratch that, he really wanted to be where you are. “Okay, we’ll meet up. Let’s discuss this in your grandpa’s place. See you in about,” Taehyung looked at his watch. “Three hours from now.”
“Wait, you don’t have to. It’s okay-”
“No. I insist.” Taehyung said with a big smile on his face.
Yup, definitely a lover. Both Jimin and Jungkook thought.
“Alright then. But if you ever change your mind, I’m really okay with-”
Taehyung looked at his watch and almost curse when it didn’t go his way. It didn’t stop when you talk, the time must not appreciate genuine conversations. “I’ll see you, okay? Bye,” Taehyung said before hanging up, he was pretty sure if he didn’t he would be all ears. Oh, he would be, but not now.
But after this job cleared, and so does his time, and he would spend it on you. All of it. He would be all ears, studying all your expression, drunken or sober. He was giddy just thinking about it.
“You got a lover, boss?” Jimin asked.
Stopping Taehyung in his track as he was about to exit the room. Taehyung was all smile from ear to ear. “I might,” he said before he went out already thinking about finishing the shoot quickly to go home.
After the shoot was done, Taehyung was quick on his toe. Everyone could see that he was somewhat in a hurry. But he was in a good mood, a very good mood, so it left anyone in his way confused yet pleasantly staring at him. He was pleasant to look at even when he didn’t smile. So it was a sight to behold when he was all teeth and smirk at every chance he get.
Jungkook was ready to undo Taehyung’s hair, getting it back to its state before styled and sprayed. But when Jungkook was about to come at his hair, he got stopped. “Do I look good? Be honest.” Taehyung had the most serious look on his face asking this to Jungkook. Jungkook choked on his own spit at the question.
Of course you do! You even won the most handsome man in 2023 when you were bald. Are you a dumbass? … is what Jungkook wanted to really say. But instead he simply said, “of course you do, boss.”
“Well don’t mess up my hair, I will be bringing this home and undid my own hair,” Taehyung said as he grabbed whatever products Jungkook was holding in his hands. He stuffed it into his bag. “Thank you,” he politely said. Before he walked away in a haste.
But not more than five seconds he turned around and casually put something on Jungkook’s hand. “Sorry I forgot, this is for the products. Thank you again,” he said before turning around and leaving Jungkook flabbergasted.
He looked at his hands, a stack of money on his hands. 1,000 dollars to be exact, now that he had counted the money. Twice. “Thank you boss! And thank you to your lover too!” Jungkook kissed the money on his hands.
Taehyung loved just to imagine it. He thought he might be a little too excited, he can’t wait to just listen and be listened to by you. The thoughts made him giddy just thinking about it. He thought he was too early, he was 20 minutes early before the estimated time of your arrival. Drinks already served, cigarettes already on his bag incase you wanted to smoke to let out a stress (although you didn’t smoke the other day).
He can’t say he didn’t give his best try to be “casual”, with his tucked up calvin klein shirt that is slightly pressed into his body and a tight black jeans and a still styled hair from the photoshoot. And the fact that he was bathed in perfume, he didn’t understand why he put an effort when you just literally saw him in his hoodie the other day. But he wanted to, and maybe by meeting you and talking to you he would find out the reason why he acted like this. Meeting you would solve all of his problems, he thinks.
Imagined his disappointment when you didn’t arrive at exactly 3 PM as what he said. He frowned seeing the long needle in his watch passed the number 12, one minute already. He sighed as he stared at the door with longing.
When he thought he was about to doze off the bell chimes one time and out of instinct he gets up from his seat and opened his arms wide. “Hi! Why are you late exactly fifteen minutes, huh?” Taehyung pouted as he said this. He kept his hands in both of your arms as he moved away to see your emotions. You were surprised, just by the look of it. Your mouth closing and opening, and your eyes were wide trying to look directly at him but also at the same time looking away. Taehyung smirked, he must’ve looked good. He hoped so.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t keep track of the time. Sorry to keep you waiting.” You looked nervous as you said it. But Taehyung find the action cute. You were honest, extremely honest, at least he believed so. And that was something he rarely came across.
“That’s okay. I thought you weren’t gonna come for a second, haha. But it’s okay. You’re here now. Let’s have a drink.” Taehyung smiled giddily. He guided you to your designated seat, the one you were seated at when you both first met. He followed suit, sitting next to you. One of his hands still seated in your shoulder.
You didn’t know that Taehyung was a touchy person, while you were awkwardly trying to shake his hand the poor guy smiling from ear to ear. It was clear he didn’t get the idea. “Are you hot? Do you want me to take the jacket off of you?” Taehyung asked, his hands ready to help. Your eyes wide. “No, no, no. That’s okay Taehyung. Thanks.” You were quick to remove the jacket yourself.
“So… tell me about it. I want to hear it. I want to hear it all.” Taehyung put his head in his left hand as he was facing you. He was still smiling, one of his hand pouring the drink as he slide it to you. Before he poured one for himself.
“Uhh, thank you. I didn’t know why you want to know, it might bore you. Because what I told you from the phone. That was it. My boss ringing me and said that I could take my old job, but I don’t know why and I don’t know if I should take it. Since… you know, my boss kicked me out of it recently. So I didn’t know…”
“Hmm… does it make you happy or stressed?”
You were taken aback. Your forehead creased as you think about what Taehyung asked. While you were in confusion, Taehyung smiled with his teeth shown. It was hard to not call you cute when you were so expressive like that. He almost wanted to squish your cheek. And that he did.
Now, you were really surprised.
“Sorry, but don’t frown. Not good for the forehead?” Taehyung laughed a little, he put his hand away from your cheek in almost a flinch. “Do you smoke?”
You shake your head no. Taehyung paused his movement, his hand moved away from the plastic bag behind him. “Me too,” he simply said.
“Do you want me to listen or do you want me to advice you?” Taehyung asked the same question his psychiatrist always asked him, he thought it was a stupid question but seeing the way your eyes watered and softened he might have to change his opinion towards that question. And he would for sure be using it more to you.
“I… would love to hear your opinion, Tae.”
Tae.
Tae.
Tae.
Tae…
Taehyung coughed a little that turned into a coughing session, he choked on his own spit. He drink one shot after he was done. You were now staring at him with concern, helping him by patting his back. You were lovely.
“I don’t think you should work with them anymore. How about I offer you a job, be my personal assistant I think you would be great at it.”
Taehyung knew you would be bad at it, you were tardy, a slow talk. But he couldn’t think of a perfect job for you rather than being his personal assistant. So he must follow his head and give you the damn job.
“Uhh, no. No. No. I don’t think I can do that. I’m not qualified.” True.
“Not true! You are perfect…,” Taehyung said, his stare scared you a little bit with how serious he looked as he said it. “and I’m not a scary boss and most likely would not kick you out!”
“I don’t know…,” you said unsure of it.
You were always so unsure with everything, and scared. You didn’t know why, but you thought of the fact that you just met him yesterday. Just because he was friendly and he was apparently a star, you didn’t know him on a personal level yet.
“I’ll pay you double than your previous job, and you can take vacation if I’m in vacation.”
Screw it, you need the money.
“Then, we have a deal.” You smiled as you stretched out your hand.
Taehyung smiled from ear to ear. “Great! I looked forward to work with you.” Taking your hand in a tight grip, he shook it a little too excitedly.
“Alright,” you chuckled nervously, Taehyung practically beamed seeing your anxious manner. You were too cute to handle. He didn’t know what it is about you, but he wanted to keep you close and he already pat himself in the back for giving you the job to be his personal assistant.
“I know it sounds dumb to ask now after we have a deal, but can you give me your expectations so I can do my job well.” You looked up with uncertainty. Taehyung shook his head, he almost coo at your demeanor. He pinched your cheeks in a quick motion, his face scrunched up from contained aggression.
“You’ll do well! Don’t doubt it, Y/n. Now don’t give me the boss treatment, you are my friend! Loosen up. Here’s your drink. Cheers!” Taehyung poured his drink and clink his glass to your awaiting hand.
“To your new job!”
“To my new job,” you said hesitantly but smile along. You could tell that it was going to be great.
You didn’t know what it is that makes you angry almost all the time, being Taehyung’s personal assistant was hell. You should’ve researched about who he is more, before you accepted the job. He is one hell of a star. No kidding. His schedules are all packed and the phone, damn it won’t stop ringing.
But it payed you a good amount of money, so no complain in the money department. But the work toll though… but then again maybe it was true when they say that there was no such thing as easy money.
You only worked for two months and you can already tell that this work wasn’t for you. You almost wanted to blame Taehyung, it was pretty selfish of you to think about. But it was cruel that he wanted to be with you all the time, he even fired the other two personal assistant of his and that was the main reason for your piled up work.
“Taehyung, you… you demon! Please hire more. You wanted me to treat you like a friend, here’s some friendly advice. Hire more assistant!” You looked up at him angrily, pointing at his chest repeatedly. You were sitting in the waiting room panting from exhaustion while you worked on getting of your heels.
There were only the two of you in that room, you always make sure of that before you act like a friend with Taehyung to avoid scandal. Taehyung come at you with a pout, he was good with it. With his hair styled so puffily, his strands golden, and his wide eyes. He looked like a puppy, more when he was currently sitting next to your leg on the floor.
“Get off of me.” You were pissed when his hands are on your lap, almost hugging them.
“Why are you mad at me? You should be mad at the schedule! Not me, I’m a victim too. Please, let me massage your feet.” He smiled offering his hands, he didn’t wait for your permission already his hands on your feet massaging it. He was one hell of a good masseur and he knows it.
“This doesn’t mean that I forgive you, you know.” You relaxed under his hands and crossed your arms, letting yourself relax. You closed your eyes as you throw your head back, it was hard to not let out a groan. His massage feels damn good.
“I’m sorry.” Taehyung gulped looking at you. You didn’t know it, but you looked so beautiful. With your tight professional skirt riding up as you slouched in the seat. Your closed eye lids relaxing and your tight expression going from a frown to a calm expression as your mouth formed an o when he massage your feet at the right spot.
Your feet are beautiful, he loved touching them especially the little wiggle of your toes when he touched the spot where you felt a little ticklish. He loved having your legs weighing his lap from your feet. He could feel the heaviness of your legs and imagined you sitting on his lap facing him. The way you crossed your arms making your chest bulged out from under the tight professional blazer. He gulped down his desire. He loved looking at you like this. He loved pleasing you.
You smell pleasant. He took notes of the musk scent. It was driving him crazy. His nose was almost touching your legs from how hard his desire was telling him to go on.
“Does it feel good?” He cleared his throat, his voice got deeper from desire.
You sighed, your anger simmered down. “It does,” you say still closing your eyes. Taehyung could feel his blood slowly going down to his lower body part the more he stared at your thighs. He almost wish your legs weren’t tight so he could peak at what’s inside. He shook his head. He was about to go on a show he can’t have a hard on. But Taehyung didn’t wish to stop, having been counting the amount of sighs you let out from him touching the right spot.
“That’s it, thank you. Now go do your show, Tae.” You got up and it was like Taehyung had sobered up along with you. He must behave to not scare you away, he had been keeping track (peeking at) of your diary and you say you hate rushing into things and especially you hate your job. So Taehyung didn’t want to push you over the edge than you already did.
“Are you feeling better?” Taehyung said, gulping down his own saliva when you gave him a tired smirk. He loved your eyes and your expression. “Don’t worry about me! You’re the one who’s going to do the show.” You fixed the strand on his hair, fixed his shirt.
“Turn around for me,” you said. Taehyung didn’t bat an eye before he did what you say with his arms up. You chuckled, he did looked like a puppy. “Good, you’re good to go!” You pat him in the back and urged him to get out of the room.
“Don’t be far away! I must have you in my eyesight! I can’t have you wandering and lost,” Taehyung said almost in a panic. You chuckled. “Yes, I won’t go anywhere mister. You won’t have a hard time telling me what to do,” you said sarcastically.
“That’s not what I meant.” Taehyung pouted. You fixed his mouth and almost like magic he was smiling now, now that you have touched him and urged him to do that with your hand.
“Smile, and go out there! Smile, Tae.” You urged him to go outside and he did. Walking away with confident he was almost sure his life was perfect. He had you, he loved everything about you. You were his person.
And if you wanted him to smile, damn right he would be doing that.
Even though you don’t like the job. There’s no way out. The contract that you signed when you were having a drink with him stated that you would be working under him for a minimum of 10 years before you can have your own decision to quit the job.
In Taehyung’s mind, that was enough time for you to already bound to him. Enough time to have plenty of kids with you and make you his lovely little wife. He was sure you would be a perfect mother to his children and he would be the perfect husband for you.
Little did you know, he would do anything for you. Except maybe, letting you go.
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captain-mj · 11 months
Text
Home Video
Soap and Gaz find mysterious home videos in Price's garage
Price had enlisted Gaz to help him do some spring cleaning of a garage he had and Gaz had complained to Soap who had immediately volunteered to help them. Price had been less than thrilled that Gaz had invited Soap to help go through his personal things, but he could admit the garage was huge and filled to the brim so maybe it was fair. 
The three men stepped into it and Gaz groaned. “It looks like a hoarder has lived here for a couple of years!! How did this even happen??”
Price looked sheepish at least. “Yeah… So long story short, I uh… just shoved things in here for the longest time.” 
Soap and Gaz stared at him for a few minutes before Price sighed. “Okay, maybe I am a bit of a hoarder. But that’s besides the point. I want this cleaned.”
Soap examined it for a few minutes before sighing. “Alright, I volunteered. Not going to complain.”
“Cool. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“What??” Soap whipped around. 
Price sighed. “I’ll give you both twenty pounds. You don’t need to get all of it cleaned, just some of it okay?”
“Alright, Captain.” Gaz sighed and stepped into it. Soap got to work right next to him. Luckily nothing was gross, mostly just dusty, but items of all sorts were just… scattered. Everywhere. Clothes, children’s toys, model planes, military memorabilia and weirdly a box of christmas lights. Occasionally they’d get lucky and find a box. Soap noticed one of them had marker on it and it was filled to the brim with vhs tapes. Unlike everything that was boxed where it was clearly stuffed in there, these were neatly organized by year. He flipped the lid back over to see the label again and actually read it this time. 
“Tommy and Riley.” 
Soap frowned and tried to wrack his brain for any memory of who that could be. He was pretty sure he knew all of Price’s relatives. 
His mom? Dead but her name was Brenda. 
His dad? Dead but his name was Charles. 
No siblings. So no nephews or nieces. And not a single person that Soap could think of who would be named Tommy or Riley. 
“Gaz. I found something.” Soap picked up one of the older looking ones. It had a label, but it was smeared to hell. He could vaguely make out an S and IRTH. 
“Soap, you’re not going to believe this.” Gaz lifted up a VCR player. 
“It’s clearly fate.” Soap said immediately. 
“Exactly, we gotta watch them.” 
It took them a few minutes to set up in Price’s living room, but they managed to get everything up and running and they popped a tape in. 
There were four people. A blond lady, a dark haired man and their two sons, presumably. One of them looked like the spitting image of his mom with blond hair and the other was more ginger. The two boys were clearly excited. 
The lady lit a few candles on the cake in front of them. “How does it feel to be four Tommy?” She asked and her voice was so soft. It had a Manchester accent that reminded him a little bit of Ghost, but there was also a clear London influence. 
Tommy, the blond one, smiled up at her. He was missing a few teeth. A few more than the average kid his age, but maybe he just lost a bunch of his baby teeth at one time. “Cake!” 
She laughed and the other kid, who didn’t look much older, rolled his eyes. “Tommy! Hurry up and blow out the candles!!” 
Their mom ruffled his hair. “Hey, now, a little patience okay? Make a wish and blow out the candles.” 
Tommy seemed to think long and hard before blowing them out.
The man spoke for the first time and Soap’s heart jumped. It sounded like a scratchy version of Ghost’s voice and Soap did not like it. “What did you wish for kid?”
“For Simon to stop being a jerk!” Tommy poked his brother hard.
“Since you said your wish, it’s not going to come true!”
“Simon, stop antagonizing your brother.” 
Simon stuck his tongue out at Tommy while Soap had a mental breakdown.
“Simon Riley.” Soap put it together. “Oh my God, it’s fucking Ghost!” Gaz shifted, staring at the tiny kids on the screen. 
Soap watched the two of them squabble while their mom cut the cake. She smiled, but when she came a bit more into view, he noticed her arm was bandaged and it clearly hurt a bit to move it. Their father stayed in the same position, arms crossed over his chest and a bored look on his face. The video ended after a moment and Soap popped another one in. 
Gaz looked like he was going to say something for the briefest of moments before just watching them with him. 
The next one was similar. Just holiday stuff. Simon didn’t look very happy in this one, staring off in the distance for most of it. He winced when his dad hit his shoulder and quickly rubbed his arm like it hurt. His mom handed him a gift though and he beamed. 
“There’s my good boy.” She ruffled his hair as he unwrapped the present. He was methodical, undoing the tape so he could take the wrapping off without tearing it. Soap was fascinated. 
Gaz grabbed a video from further into the box and they were met with a teenage Tommy getting ready in a mirror. With skull makeup. It was uncanny, the only difference between the two being their eyes. Tommy’s were a bright green. Simon stood next to him, slightly shorter than him. At first, Soap thought he had to be sitting down, but no. He was in fact slightly shorter. 
Simon leaned into his younger brother, makeup covered the bottom half of his face, making a giant fake Glasgow smile that Soap felt was a little ironic considering Ghost had a real one. 
“You done?” Simon’s voice had just started to deepen, sounding a little more like the voice Soap was used to hearing over comms. It definitely sounded younger though, clearly a teen. He also looked like a teen, mostly thanks to him wearing dorky sunglasses and a leather jacket that didn’t fit his shoulders right. 
“Give me a second, Si.” Tommy grumbled, voice still cracking a little from puberty. He looked annoyed as he once again tried to get the lines straight. He finally managed and looked proud of himself. “How do I look?”
“Like a loser.” Simon responded but he smiled at him. Tommy rolled his eyes and picked up the camera. The two of them left then with him carrying the camera around. Both of them were talking about something and then they set the camera in the back of a car. Their dad climbed into the driver’s side and he looked at Simon in the front seat.
“Why are you wearing sunglasses?”
“Uh…” 
His dad took them off his face and Simon’s eyes were very red. There was also some bruising where it looked like he had been decked. 
“Are you high?”
“Yeah. Got some weed from Jason. You want some, dad?”
His dad laughed. “Course you’d get high on something like weed. Nah, I’m good. Got some needles in the back.” He ruffled Simon’s hair who smiled, relaxing into his seat. 
Soap looked at Gaz who looked just as taken back by it. Simon fixed his sunglasses and they continued going to wherever they were going. His dad put on the radio and they all three belted out the 90’s rock. 
Soap wondered if Simon still listened to it. Did he sing in the car when they weren’t around?
Once he got out, he saw that their dad also had skull paint on and he looked even more like Simon than Tommy did. He looked at the camera for a moment before hitting Tommy rather hard for it to be playful. “Fucking idiot, you ran the battery down. I swe-” The camera clicked close. 
Soap decided to pick the next one, since Gaz obviously had bad taste, and he got one that was on the complete other side of the box. He slipped it in and sat next to Gaz eagerly. 
An adult Simon and Tommy. Simon must’ve finally gotten taller because he was now several inches taller than Tommy. They were at a concert and clearly high on something, but they looked happy. Soap couldn’t argue that. Tommy kept glancing at Simon, clearly wanting to say something but Simon didn’t acknowledge it. The video went out for a bit, some shitty rock band playing live in the background. 
“Hey Simon?”
“Yeah?”
Tommy paused before shaking his head. “I’m so-”
“Don’t be. Stuff happens. As long as it wasn’t you that got hurt.”
“But your ribs…”
“I’ll be fine. I’m your older brother. It’s my job to protect you, ya know?” Simon smiled and it looked sad. 
They changed that one rather fast. 
It opened to a group of fish. They were all moving about slowly.
A small child started to talk. “Did you know sharks are older than trees?
“Really?” Ghost. Soap recognized his voice right away. “I did not know that.” He sounded like he was smiling.
“Also, scientists can age sharks like a tree too!” 
“No way. How could they do that?”
“They count the rings on their vertebrae.” The camera turned to them. Soap wasn’t sure who was holding the camera, but he didn’t really need to. Simon was standing there, unmasked and wearing a short sleeved shirt. His arms were covered in little tattoos and on his shoulders was a small kid. Tiny little hands were buried in Ghost’s hair to keep himself stable. “But they have to hurt the sharks to do that.” 
Simon smiled, looking like the absolute gift he was. “Yeah. We don’t want that. If I meet any sharks, I’ll just ask their birthday, huh Joseph?”
Joseph smiled and they looked exactly like each other. Simon took him off his shoulders and started walking to the camera person, swinging Joseph back and forth as he walked. There were scars on his face already. Soft ones along his mouth. But he looked so pretty. So young too. Rather young to be a father, though the way he talked with the kid and the fact that there didn’t seem to be anyone else, it made sense. 
Was the person holding the camera the mom? Were they married? Just dating? Were they still together? Ghost was also on leave. Was he with her right now? 
Soap had never really… thought of that. He should’ve, but stuff like that doesn’t always come out during conversations with soldiers. Ghost was a lone wolf though, so Soap always assumed he was completely alone. 
How old was this kid now? Based on the age, he assumed the kid would be a teen now, right? 
Simon threw the kid in the air and caught him, hugging him close to his chest. He laughed. Genuinely. It was so sweet sounding. He smiled right at the camera. 
“You two look cute!” 
Simon blushed. “Ah, it’s all the little guy.” 
“Yeah, that’s fair.” 
Joseph kicked his feet and Simon put him down. He clinged to Simon’s hand as they walked. Simon was clearly about to say something but the video ended. 
Gaz looked at Soap. “Ghost is a dad??”
“Oh my God, Ghost is a dad.” Soap echoed, staring at the now blank screen. “He picked the name Joseph though. What a boring name.” He looked away and hoped Gaz wouldn’t catch his expression. 
Ghost was a dad and never told him? He understood everyone else. Price obviously knew. But why not tell him? They were close he thought! 
Gaz popped another one in while he was distracted. It was from the same section so it was more about Joseph. All of the focus was on the kid actually. Where before, the camera was just pointed in their general vicinity, someone was clearly holding the camera to make sure to capture everything. 
Joseph tore open his presents with a fierce ferocity, grinning. He grabbed the legos and immediately looked at Simon who was just off to the side.
“Ya gotta help me build them!!” 
Simon nodded. “I will, don’t worry.” He smiled at him. His hair was buzzed like the standard military cut. The rest of the birthday went with most of the focus on Joseph, who looked even more like Simon than before, and occasionally a pretty lassie with red hair. 
Soap got an answer to who was behind the camera when Simon smiled at him. “Cute kid right Tommy?”
“Fucking cutest.”
“Swear jar.” 
“Kill yourself, Simon.”
Simon laughed and Beth smiled at the camera too. Joseph seemed oblivious to the adults around him, still trying to tear open another present. 
The next video was a little more confusing. There was jostling and it was just Tommy. He set the camera down for just a moment to fix himself. After making sure his rather casual outfit was straight, he picked up the sign that had a simple “Sergeant Simon Riley” painted on it. He held it up immediately and beamed, completely forgetting the camera on the seat. 
Simon slowly made his way over. There was a very pronounced limp and he was holding himself like he was in a lot of pain. Tommy looked worried, but he grabbed everything and they got a glimpse at the bandages. They were wrapped all the way around Soap’s throat and were across the bottom half of his face. Dark circles under his eyes gave away how exhausted he was. 
“Hey, Si… you okay?”
Simon blinked slowly before nodding. He went to take another step but Tommy quickie got under his arm, offering support. The camera went off.
“Price might be here soon. It’s been close to an hour.” Gaz pointed out, but Soap could see it. The curiosity for more. More answers, more information, more of seeing Ghost not be… Ghost. 
“Just one more.” Soap grabbed another one from that side of the box and popped it in. 
He could tell as soon as it started playing that something was wrong. 
Simon looked… exhausted. He had a medical mask on and a hoodie, yet still seemed to be shivering. His eyes were another factor. They shifted around frantically, clearly afraid of something, even though he was in the exact same home he had been in. 
The camera was from an odd angle, like someone was recording him from a different room. 
Joseph slipped past the cameraman and Soap saw an older woman’s hand reach out to grab him but it was too late. Joseph stood right in front of Simon and all of his attention was immediately on him. 
“Hey, Joseph.”
“Do you want to watch movies with me?”
There was a pause. The kid had certainly aged, must’ve been at least a year since the last one, but he was still so young. A baby in the grand scheme of things. 
Simon slowly scooted over to make room but Joseph still sat right next to him, invading his personal space as children often did. He put on a movie himself, it looked like a Disney one, and started talking.
“Mom said you used to watch movies with me all the time, especially when I was little. She said you worried about dropping me so you only ever held me if you sitting down.”
Simon shrugged. “You were tiny. Still are.”
“Hey! I’m 5 now!” 
“Still tiny. Worried I’d… hurt you somehow.” 
“Mom and Grandma said you’re scared now. Is it because you think that again?”
Simon slowly reached up and pushed his hood back. His hair was far longer and not evenly cut. Soap could see where there was scarring along his throat as well as the edges of bandages that went under his mask. “No. I don’t think I’d hurt you.” 
“Good. So you’re going to keep watching movies with me right?”
“Yeah. I’ll always watch movies you, kid.” Simon didn’t relax as Joseph cuddled up to him. Even after Joseph fell asleep, he stayed stiff. 
The person holding the camera moved closer and Simon immediately moved his head to look at her. He was afraid for just a moment and his hands immediately covered Joseph to protect him first.
“Hey, Mum.” Simon’s eyes were tired, but… they weren’t Ghost’s. There was a spark of something there that wasn’t present in Ghost’s. 
“I knew he could cheer you up.” 
Simon let out a tiny huff and his eyes started to close. Her hand gently cupped his cheek and he finally relaxed. “There’s my good boy.” She whispered softly and he let out a shaky breath, like he was trying not to cry. He fell asleep after a few minutes and she tucked them both in. 
“You kept them?” 
Soap and Gaz both screamed, looking up at Ghost who seemed impassive. There was nothing in his eyes to indicate anything, let alone something as trivial as how he was feeling. 
Price grimaced. “Yeah. I had planned on giving them back to you when I found you in Mexico, but you were in such a bad place I decided to wait and then I just never found a good time.” 
Ghost nodded and watched as his Mom set the camera down on the counter as she did her hair. She must’ve forgot the camera was still on. 
“You’re a dad?” Gaz asked, much braver than Soap ever could be about it.
“Joseph is my nephew.” Ghost explained, not taking his eyes off the screen. She pulled away to start making tea, humming a Beatles song as she did. She must’ve heard something because she disappeared suddenly and then was leading a shaking Simon in. He held on to her, looking more like a lost kid than a 6’4 adult man. 
“Sit down, love.” 
“She had sixth sense for when I had nightmares. Even when I was a kid.” Ghost sounded delicate. It was new. Price gave them a signal to keep quiet. “When I came home, I had them so often, but she would always be there. Usually with a cup of tea or she’d try to push me back to bed.”
She started speaking again and Ghost went quiet, just like the version of him on the screen, he hung on every word. “You’re okay. You’re right here with me, okay?”
“Okay…”
“Whatever happened, whatever they said, you’re alive, safe at home. We all are, alright Simon?”
Simon nodded slowly and tried to grab the cup she set down in front of him. His hands shook too hard, the liquid spilling on to his fingers. He winced and she quickly took the cup from him to set it down. She made sure the burns weren’t too bad before smiling. 
All at once, she remembered the camera and quickly grabbed it. “Oh i was supposed to be recording Joseph but he ran off to play with you and I just got so…” She shut the camera and the video ended. 
Ghost stared and Soap saw it. The tiny flicker of sadness. Soap grabbed his hand, deciding to try to be brave. 
“What happened to her?”
“Same thing that happened to Joseph and Tommy and Beth. They’re a bunch of gravestones.” 
“Seems they really cared about you.” 
“...Yeah. They really did.”
720 notes · View notes
manias-wordcount · 1 month
Text
Show 'Em How (Phoenix Wright x Reader x Miles Edgeworth)
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺, 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯 𝗱𝗮𝘆. 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛
𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗷𝗼𝗯, 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
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When you were younger, you had a crush on two boys.
The type of crush that left people with heat stuck in their cheeks and eyes casted down at the ground. The type of crush that left people like you stammering and stuttering and trying too awfully hard to look cool yet cute in every moment they’re in view. But they grew up. So did you. Though those feelings you had for the now-grown men didn’t completely disappear. You’re not even sure if they lessened enough for you to no longer feel embarrassed about it all.
  But for the longest time, you just didn’t get what you saw in both of them. After all, you thought that they couldn’t be any more different from each other aside from their shared strong will. So what made you like them still after all these years? What made you linger around like a ghost- hoping and hoping for the one who sees you. Despite knowing they would never see you as you’ve always seen them. Someone to love. Someone to adore. Someone to hold tight and want to protect for as long as they live. But that’s the thing.
  “You’re getting so good at this, aren’t you sweetheart?”
  You only thought you knew that. 
  “Mmm,” You make a quiet hum with the back of your throat as you look up at one of the men before you. “Mmm…”
   You always thought of Miles Edgeworth as a gentleman- even when you both just attending grade school. You thought of him as refined and forever poised- even in the trickiest of situations. And now, you’d admit that some of that holds true. He’s still oh-so gentle as he cards his fingers through your hair and keeps the loose strands out of the way. He’s still oh-so kind as he looks at you with eyes that hold emotions so far away from disgust and malice that you could easily forget if you wanted to. If you tried. But most of all? He’s still oh-so-sweet in the way he calls on you- insisting on sweetheart even as you wrap your lips around his dick and suck him off while free hand focuses on his rival.
  “I could have told you that,” A voice from your side grumbles. Some that have your heart thumping out of your chest and shivers running down your spine at the exact same time. It’s the same Phoenix Wright that you’ve always been smitten with. Though it’s admittedly more charming now that you’re able to hear him talking so casually. Without stress about investigations. Without drama from court cases. None of that stuff. Although… “And quit hogging! It was my turn to get sucked off ages ago!”
  You suppose nothing can be quite drama-free with those two. But you suppose it’s your fault, isn’t it? It started with you getting a little bold one night. A little brave. Then suddenly, you’re writing love letters. Love confession with the hearts and the secrets and the obvious embarrassment dripping from every single word. But this running off of a courageous high (or rather, a steep amount of liquid courage), and suddenly yourself with new emails in your outgoing mail folder. And two emails in your ingoing mail folder- each agreeing to the time and the place that drunken you had asked to meet.
  Truthfully, you don’t remember how exactly your confession went. Maybe you blocked it all from memory. Maybe you didn’t. But whatever happened must have been a good thing between all three of you. 
  Because why else would Phoenix be wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling you off of his rival’s cock all so he could lead you and your puckered lips toward his?
  “Pay attention to me too, okay?” He reminds you gently as he gives you a big smile. Instantly, you’re enamored again now that he’s the boy with your most direct attention (even though Miles’ huff is very clearly an attempt to get your eyes back off him). But Phoenix doesn’t pay him any mind- instead, he’s too busy pushing your head closer and closer to him as his free hand holds his fully erect cock out for your to slide into your throat. “I’m willing to share but you can’t forget about me, alright?”
  You’re barely registering his words. Just giving him a simple nod before your back up and sitting on your knees and wrapping your lips around the pretty dick in front of you. It stands tall and proud in front of you with quite a few noticeable veins decorating it in its entirety. A small bead of precum has been spilling from the top. But you don’t waste another second on dumb thoughts and inaction. Instead, you’re flattening your tongue and taking the thing into your mouth easily. Completely. Happily.
  The salty taste hits your goosebumps a second later, but Phoenix is quick to ease you into taking his entire length all at once. He coaches you into breathing the way he knows you should, and you focus on relaxing your mouth the same way you did for Miles so he slides right in with little resistance. But Phoenix is thicker than Miles. Not as long, but much much thicker. And so the instant you feel him start to fill up your mouth in a way that feels like too much at once, you cough. Just a little. 
  Even so, it’s still enough to get Miles to hurry out a call of “Be careful” to the other man, much to his displeasure. But it’s not your first. It’s far from it and everyone in the room knows that by now. So you’re quick to right things yourself. To adjust so that you mouth things about fitting Phoenix inside rather than Miles. And all too soon, you’re bobbing your head up and down and up and down and up and down. Letting it glide through your warm, wet throat as the man you’re sucking off balls his hands into tight fists and leans back into his chair.
  “Fuck, that’s good,” Phoenix all but groans as he closes his eyes and tosses his head back. His voice is much lower than what you’re used to. Softer. Quieted. More controlled even. Not that you really mind it though. As much as you love your Phoenix- the one who’s bright and loud and only just a little dumb at times- you like the way you’re making him come undone like this. Making him count his every breath. Making him rise out of his chair and curse under his breath. Making him feel good. All because of you. All because of you. “Keep going- keep sucking like that. And- and do that thing with your tongue again. Okay, baby?”
  Your heart melts at the nickname. Baby. You’re so soft for these two it’s ridiculous. But perhaps it’s more ridiculous how soft they are for you. How willing they are for you. Most men would hate sharing a lover. And yet, here comes Miles- reaching over and pulling back your hair again so you can continue focusing on running your tongue against every vein on Phoenix’s dick again and again and again.
  And sometime later, you’ll start stroking Miles’ cock again, not wanting him to lose the pretty hard-on he brought out just for you. Pumping your fist up and down and up and down- in time with the way you bod your head on the other man’s cock. But pretty soon all of Miles’ sweet little compliments will draw your attention away. Pretty soon, you’re pulling your mouth off of Phoenix’s dick and wrapping your lips around Miles’ once more- pulling out all the moves you know he likes. Playing a little with his balls. Sucking a little extra hard on the head. And looking up at him through your eyelashes all pretty like when he started mumbling all kinds of selfish yet adoring words towards you.
  And at some point, the other man in the room is going to feel content will sitting and watching anymore. At some point, he’s gonna want a hand or a mouth or that pretty little hole that’s been hiding between your legs all this time. At some point, he’s gonna want to make you do the squirming. Just like your other lover is gonna want to make you squeal and feel good. Feel oh-so ridiculously good. But he can wait. They both know how to wait at this point. And frankly, you do too.
  Because you waited so many years to confess. You waited so many years to know if they liked you back. And you waited so many years before realizing that the answer had to be both or absolutely nothing at all. But they’ve made their decision. And you’ve made yours. 
  You know they know how to wait their turn. You know they know how to play nice. How to share. And you know they know how to do that with each other. Because you were there when they learned those things. And if they refuse to do it now?
  Well, you’ll just have to show them how it’s done. 
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kenyukisser · 6 months
Text
broken compass ; SATORU G.
in which : Satoru's a selfish man, so why can't he take your absence well?
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It’s not like he was ashamed of it, he was rather aware. GOJO SATORU knew of his heart filled with greed, arrogance, words he’d probably have a hard time spelling. The same heart who loved you, and probably the same beating pulse who lost you.
“I told you so.” Suguru snickered, glancing over at Satoru whose arrogant façade and shit-eating grin was long gone the moment his messages were going green, you weren’t receiving them. And here he thought you loved receiving his messages every 2 minutes? 3 hours? Nah, it’s probably been a month since he’s replied to your previous message.
You: hey ‘toru, happy monthsary :) 9/27/2016 You: Satoru??                                     9/28/2016 Satoru: yeah? (!)      ��                      11/1/2016
“God damn it” he groaned, and Satoru is…well, Satoru. In an attempt to test his luck, he texted once more. And to no surprise, it didn’t send either.
He wasn’t the only set of eyes who watched the messages turn an eyesore neon color of green, the raven-haired man sat next to him, a small grin tugging on his lips as he contained a laugh. A polar opposite in contrast to the white-haired man next to him.
“She was g’na leave anyways” Suguru shrugged, nudging Satoru in the shoulder. In his attempt to light the mood. In which Satoru’s frown deepened.
“Just find another one” Suguru spoke once more, the silent unsettling him. Despite being friends for the longest of times, it’s only now Suguru has acknowledged him in this current state. If anything, Gojo would’ve been crying to his flings about God knows what
“No, ya don’t get it” The man with covered eyes spoke, his glasses dangling off his nose as he spoke, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, as Suguru objects to his statement.
“there’s other girls—”
“But I want her.”
And with that exclamation, the room fell silent. Leaving Suguru in disbelief, and Satoru with his head down to the palms of his hand. Even the strongest has his flaws, his emotions.
On the other hand, you’ve moved on... surprisingly! A part of you misses Satoru, more than you’d like to admit. Or would you even admit that at all?
He ghosted you, tormented you for the whole year. Probably ruined and brought a piece of you home with him. And for him to not bring you as a whole made it worse for you.
But in his conscience, loving you was easy, getting along with you was easier, losing you was dramatically ironic.
And finding you amidst of the crowd is like a muscle memory from him.
So, when his fingers tugged on the air, fiddling and practically grasping onto nothing. He wasn’t surprised, he never will be. Loving you was a muscle memory, a mental memory. Literally.
His fingers fidgeting with the hem of the pocket of his pants as his eyes pierce through the huge crowd. Knowing Satoru, he’d find you all the time amidst the crowd. That’s what you loved about him.
There’re two problems about that though, Keyword: Love and Newsflash—Satoru find’s that word an understatement, despite not knowing the word completely.
So, when he’s left with the huge crowd in the train station. It’s his own man vs society moment, his gaze ever shifting almost everywhere to find you. Hell, he doesn’t care anymore. pushing the people aside, none of them matter anyways. He’d argue if asked, because despite the people itching to get Gojo to spare a glance at them, his eyes were always set on you.
It didn’t take him long, which was surprising. Considering that it took him longer to find you than to reply to all those messages you sent back then.
He found you, you found him. despite the crowd, the tension was frightening, it screamed Satoru. Suspenseful, awkward, and cruel.
So, you turned on your heel, walking the other direction in an attempt to ignore the pair of eyes piercing through you.
“Come on, don’t be like that.” he spoke, it was loud, and loud it was. His voice like a ringing melody…on a Monday morning.
“Like what, Gojo?” You murmured to yourself, but he heard it like your voice was his only source of blood flow, the only reason his pulse would beat. And at this moment, maybe it was.
“Like I’m not here trying to say I’m fucking sorry.”
Truth be told, he loved you more than anything. Missed seeing you when he woke up, missed you being the first thing he saw when he unlocked his apartment at the evening, miss the way your hair flowed and tangled with his white hair whilst you were fast asleep. You were like an artifact, and he wasn’t the type to listen to his 7th grade social studies lectures. Because he realized. Not the other girls, not one of his girls yesterday. You. It was you.
A confused expression lighted up on your face, the same face which used to gush over his antics. God, he’s not good for your health. God bless you for having it in you to look him in the eye.
“Look—im sorry for…” His words got caught up in his throat, this was no God. This wasn’t a sorcerer who deserved the title of ‘the strongest.’ This was the emotion crisis of a god.
“Forget about it, move on.” You cut him off, your voice raising slightly as you spoke, quickening the pace of your steps.
“Hey wait, I didn’t tell you how...”
How I still think of you every night. How the moon reflects on your beauty, yet it’s telling me you’ve moved on
“I said forget about it.” You exclaimed, and it was as if a large dimension of osmium was lifted off your shoulders.
You’d like to think he was the osmium that burdened your shoulders; remarkably toxic, unhealthy and he felt like a dagger of knives clinging onto you bare.
Could you really fault him for discovering love? After all, who wouldn’t love you? You were so simple, yet complicated, comforting yet intoxicating. It made his head spin. He knows you’re convinced you’re just a mere nuisance to him. but in his perspective, you’re much more than he’s willing to admit.
But he’s going to admit all of that. When he sees you again.
But that interaction alone led you to Shoko’s headquarters, a frown on your face as she listened to you talk about your encounter.
“Men really are something.” Shoko hummed, eyes glimmering in disdain as she saw how much Satoru affected you. She wasn’t looking down on you at the slightest, she felt pure disgust over Satoru’s antics. But she can’t say she was surprised.
“I know.” You grumbled, your head resting against your knees as you spoke.
“Any chance you two would get back together?” Shoko broached about something rather sensitive, but you could never uninterest the doctor.
“..no, ‘m done.” You hurriedly replied, not bothering to elaborate any further, she can see why.
“don’t cry like that, if Satoru saw that he’d put you in an album cover for some song.”
“Shoko!”
12/23/16;
And it’s been a few days since you see Satoru, seen Shoko. Hell, have seen anyone. Working as a transcriptionist pays you well, and you don’t even have to go outside. It’s like a miracle.
But within the few days, you’ve always received flowers by your door.
“who’s this from?” you inquire, glancing up at the delivery man who seems just as clueless as you.
“..sorry ma’am, I actually don’t know.” He shrugs, flashing on a sheepish smile as his gaze fell down to the bouquet on your hand, a bouquet full of roses, with azure aster on the side, the pretty shade of blue standing out as much as the roses. No wonder they were called blue devils.
…?
It was in the name, maybe you knew who it was from.
And it went on for a few days, which turned into weeks and ranged into months. It was a draining experience.
Everyday it was a different flower, it got prettier by the day. Although, nothing from him came pretty.
and it was getting to the point where all the shelves in your apartment were filled with flowers, from pretty red roses to lilies who still look as lively as ever.
Maybe Satoru did it on purpose, you weren’t like Satoru. You let living things grow to its fullest extent. He left things to rot and die.
He wasn’t going to let you rot anymore, not even leave another scar on you at the slightest.
You haven’t received flowers from him this week. You’ve had enough, and maybe he has too, maybe you guys just need closure. You weren’t even sure if it was in a good way or not. Fumbling to get your phone from the nightstand as you unblocked his number.
And that was probably the worst thing you’ve done.
multiple messages flooded your phone, it was all from him. He’s been texting you all the while you’ve been ignoring him.
Satoru: miss ya                                   11/04/16 Satoru: do you like roses?                11/17/16 Satoru: 11:11pm                              11/27/16 Satoru: I can’t seem to leave you alone 12/04/16 Satoru: what do ya want for xmas       12/09/16
It’s just everything you’d expect from Satoru. Texts laced with bitter genuineness. His love is inhospitable—…what are those last few?
Satoru: last message, I’ll leave you alone. Sorry for seizing the opportunity when I lost it, can ya blame me for falling in love with you?           12/23/16 Satoru: actually no, not last message. I just miss you so fucking much. 12/23/16
What does Satoru know about love? You thought to yourself. In fairness he knew how to woo women, hit them in the right spots. But he never knew how to love them genuinely. Something he was willing to learn within your guidance.
Satoru on the other hand who’s been panicking on the fact all his undelivered messages suddenly sent, he’s sulking and pacing back and forth because –what the fuck???
Yet a small glimpse of hope was shining upon his eyes, maybe you wanted to talk?
You:???                                               12/23/16
Yeah, never mind. All that hope is shattered, clinking like glass onto the floor. He’s afraid to walk over it, because he’d be walking on you.
You: I miss you too                            12/23/16
and that was all he needed, a few simple words and with a snap of his finger. He hauled himself into your apartment complex.
“ya miss me?” he hummed, and for the first time in months. An actual grin plastered his face. He’s disheveled, messy, not in his best state. He wants you.
“maybe.” You shrugged, tracing your marble countertop as you waited for the pan to heat up, not bothering to face him.
God, were you the prettiest. He’d swallow his pride all over again to see that pretty smile dangling off your face. His blue eyes shined with determination as he approached.
And once he got a close-up view of you, he pulled you in from behind, a soft and alluring embrace. The hard callous palm of his hand finding yours easily. He’s warm and love embraces him as much as it embraces you, in contrast to the dickhead he was a few months ago.
“I miss this, miss you.” He murmured as he buried himself on your shoulder.
“Miss the mornings where I’d see you cooking something. Or when it’s late at night and we can’t sleep so you talk about your day till you whine about being sleepy.” He thought to himself.
“..miss you too,’toru.” You spoke, and for the first time in forever. He sighed out a breathe that he didn’t even know he was holding. Like you were his source of living and he could finally bloom within your presence.
“I’m ready to try again, are you?” he whispered, his blue eyes peeking up at you from your shoulder, causing you to steal a few glances at his pretty face.
“I’m ready, as long as it’s with you.”
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took me awhile but here we are bc i miss u guys><
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saintunhinged · 2 years
Text
pov asra wants to kiss you, but can’t find the right moment.
asra alnazar x reader . FLUFF ALERT !!!
He tried for a kiss first thing that morning. It was part of his everyday routine, but your yawning stopped him from leaning in any further. He tried going in for it again, but before he knew it, you were already making your way to the bathroom.
He’d just get one when you return.
Or so he thought. He dozed off, only waking up when the aroma of breakfast filled his nose. Dragging himself from bed, he followed the delightful smell into the back of the shop where your back was turned to him. “Good morning, love.” He softly greeted, “It smells amazing in here.”
The sound of his voice made you turn around and the sight of his bed ridden hair made you smile. You always thought he looked unreasonably cute in the morning. “Good morning!” you chirped. You were unrealistically happy for someone who didn’t necessarily fall under the category of a morning person. “I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.” You told him. You were finally beginning to wrap things up without the breakfast, so you turned back around.
“That’s sweet of you, thank you.” Asra appreciated the gesture of care you attempted to show. It would have been perfect if he actually stayed in bed for it.
He’d make up for it with a good morning kiss.
Asra took a few steps forward before his hands came to hold your hips. His chin rested on your shoulder as he leaned over to watch what you were doing. His white hair tickled your ear, and you wiggled out of his grip, quietly laughing, just as he was moving in to press a kiss to your cheek. In most cases, you’d return a kiss to his lips.
“Your hair! I can’t focus with your hair tickling me.” You took a glance at him, unable to suppress your grin.
He was more interested in kissing you than the trouble his hair would get him in. You were forgetting the most important thing your mornings consisted of. He just had to subtly spell it out. “I think you’re forgetting something.” He half-jokingly stated, puckering his lips up to make kissing sounds, all while pointing to his mouth. “If only there was a way to make it up..” He feigned sadness, blinking his eyes multiple times as if on the verge of crying.
You noticed mischief dancing in his violet eyes despite the saddening look on his face. “Well..” You playfully stared, tapping your finger on your chin as you pretended to think. “I guess there is one thing that has slipped my mind. It just so happens to be the perfect way to atone for my forgetfulness, too.” You inch closer to him, and his gaze never strays from you.
He fought the urge to smile upon feeling your warm breath ghost over his lips. Your eyes slipped closed, anticipating the kiss to come. He could practically feel his lips on yours as you—
BEEP BEEP!
When night came, it bothered Asra more than it probably should have. Going a full day without even kissing you was driving him insane. He spent so long without you as his partner, and now that you were, he didn’t want to waste another second without expressing his love.
After a bath, you’re getting ready for bed when you hear him call your name. You look up just as he enters the room. The silk fabric of his robe sticks to his wet body as he walks to the edge of the bed. He ditches the robe as he settles in next to you.
With a deep breath from him, the candles lighting the room die out, except for two single candles on either side of the bed illuminating the darkness. He doesn’t say anything, yet you notice his eyes trailing over your face. He stares wistfully at your lips the longest.
“I want you to kiss me." Asra suddenly announces. It’s a clear and sure statement that leaves you a bit confused. He never mentions wanting to kiss you unless he’s not sure whether or not you would be okay with it. But you made it clear a long time ago that his affection was always welcome.
Your brows furrow. Curious, you ask, "Why don't you?" In the dim room, your eyes adjust to the darkness which allows you to see his thoughtful gaze.
He hesitated before answering. A sigh falls from his lips as he carelessly shrugs. “Because something’s bound to stop it from happening.” He makes a face as if to say, ‘I would know’. You watch him push aside the curl hiding his face. “I’ve tried all day.”
Giving an answer isn't something you worry about. Instead, you lift your head off your pillow and invade his personal space. Your lips find his soft ones and press firmly against them. Almost instantly, what was supposed to be a gentle goodnight kiss turns fervent and eager. Your lips part and his skilled tongue delves into your mouth, exploring and mapping out every inch and corner.
The kiss breaks as you both breathe heavily. You stare at each other, grinning from ear to ear. "Perhaps we should hold back on kissing until the day is over," you suggest, and he shakes his head vigorously as he disagrees.
“I don’t think I can go another day like this.” He goes in for another kiss, but ironically, you yawn. He quietly laughed to himself, deciding to press a soft kiss on your forehead instead. “Goodnight, my love.” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You feel yourself falling asleep to the lulling beat of his heart.
"Good night, Asra.”
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corpsekiller · 1 year
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲) — 𝐭.𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲
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𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. thomas shelby x fem!reader (maid!reader)
𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. angst, jealousy, seemingly unrequited love that isn’t actually unrequited, mutual pining
𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. thomas thought he knew desire before he met you, but you proved him wrong. since the day you started working for him as a maid, he has been watching you from afar, trying to contain his hunger for you and it was only a matter of time until he finally breaks.
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. this is the second part to wanting you (is all i’ve ever known). i got many comments asking for another part and since i already planned to turn this into a small series with three parts, i felt more motivated to continue writing this, so thank you for your reblogs and sweet comments on the first part! and @luv-gin thank you for your support, you're the best <33
𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.696 words
MASTERLIST     PART 1
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Despite knowing better, Tommy finds himself thinking of you.
Often, he wonders what you’re doing when you aren’t serving him drinks or cleaning his study, sweeping over the cracked spines of his books to clear away the dust that has settled on the pages over the years due to the lack of use and polishing the deep mahogany of his desk until his reflection stares back at him, punishing him with a deadly stare for the secrets he keeps buried in the back of his head. Still, his mirror knows. No matter how many cigarettes he smokes, how many glasses of whiskey he downs, he finds his thoughts inevitably returning to you.
Memories of you flood his mind at times when he’s trying to focus on business, the scent of your perfume and the warmth of your hand grazing his, the spark of desire glinting in your eyes whenever his gaze met yours, wondering, hoping, praying that one day, he’d reciprocate your feelings. For the longest time, he had tried to ignore his longing for you because he didn’t want to ruin you — you’re young and sweet, so gentle that his heart threatens to burst at the seams whenever you offer him a timid smile and brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear and he’s—
Well, he carries the scars of death on his body as a constant reminder of what he truly is. A monster, no matter how beloved.
But even when you aren’t in the room, your presence still seems to linger around him, and sometimes he feels as if he could stretch his scarred hands out into the empty space and find you reaching back for him. It’s a blessing and a curse at the same time, to yearn for someone he can’t have and it has begun to form into something akin to anger, growing like a tumor in his chest and draining him of all sanity.
And see, a part of him is tempted to get rid of it in the most violent way possible, find a valve and let the rage seep out of his body as if it were blood spilling from an open wound before he finally loses his fuckin’ mind. Because it hurts more than it should, to love someone as he loves you, it pulls his skin too tight around his joints and makes his bones feel more like explosives hidden beneath his flesh, ready to blow at any given moment and-
Ah, but only in your absence.
That’s the other side speaking, the side he didn’t know still existed — his mother’s son, the boy he once was before he went to France and faced the horrors of war, who cared about others in a way that always left him broken, Perhaps, that boy died back then, down in the tunnels but his ghost has followed him back and haunts him in moments of utter silence. Tommy usually ignores his cries and whimpers, but sometimes, he listens. Don’t let her see you, he whispers, frail hands tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, don’t let her see your anger.
Tommy makes a silent promise to the boy who has fallen hopelessly in love with you.
He breaks it soon after.
Of course, it’s not your fault. No, you’re as sweet as the sugar cubes he fed his horse this morning, dutifully serving his brothers their drinks and fulfilling every request he directs at you without an ounce of hesitation, yet he somehow finds you to be a nuisance on this evening.
Perhaps it’s your voice, he thinks, soft and smooth as you mumble ‘As you wish, Mr. Shelby’ and lean over his broad shoulder to pour him his second drink and suddenly, he’s dangerously aware of the heat your body radiates, the close proximity between him and you. Maybe it’s your hand ghosting over the length of his arm as you set another plate loaded with delicious food on the dinner table that keeps distracting him, that keeps setting his skin on fire.
Even your dress seems to be shorter today and puts your legs on full display when you walk, skirts swishing around your plush thighs with every step you take. The palms of his hands itch with the urge to touch you and his eyes roam endlessly over your figure, can’t seem to let you out of sight for even a moment. Fuck, he curses himself for the desire that burns through his veins like the alcohol he tastes on the back of his throat and devours him whole.
Still, he perseveres.
Until his brothers begin to flirt with you. Of course, Tommy knew they would take a liking in you and, just as he expected, you had them wrapped around your finger in a blink of an eye - it only took a sweet smile and a curtsy, the very same smile that follows him into his dreams every night.
But even though he’s clever enough to predict what’s going to happen in any situation he finds himself in (roughly, he’s been wrong many times) and cunning enough to beat his enemies at their own games (barely, he’s danced with death too often to count), he didn’t expect you to fall for any of their advances.
They’re idiotic brutes, especially when it comes to girls they’re trying to fuck and Thomas never cared much for their half-assed attempts at getting into a woman’s knickers. Still, as he watches you from across the room, he feels his anger resurfacing — a black hound baring his teeth and scratching at the inside of his chest like he just caught the coppery scent of fresh blood.
And it’s not your fault, he tells himself bitterly, but the lighthearted laughter escaping you at one of John’s jokes and the blush covering your cheeks after every compliment he tells you makes it harder to contain this uncontrollable violence he holds against no one but himself. Even the little twirl you do so innocently when Arthur whistles unashamedly seems to drive him to the very edge of his sanity and the whispers of the boy begging him to hide it, to restrain it seems to drown out in the sound of his blind rage tearing through the chains of his self-control.
No, you’re supposed to smile only at him and no one else in this god-forsaken room, even if it’s his own family occupying each seat at the table.
In his peripheral vision he can see you walk past Finn, can see Linda tensing up beside Arthur, can smell her disgust as she throws you a dirty look and Tommy opens his mouth to tell her to fuck off, but thinks better of it when his youngest brother suddenly wraps his hand around your wrist. With a grin, he pulls you closer and brushes a loose curl behind your ear, then mutters something that causes you to giggle quietly before you lean down to plant a kiss on his freckled cheek.
And despite all his efforts, Tommy feels something inside him snap.
His cutlery clatters against his plate. It’s loud enough to gather the attention of everyone present — his brothers whip around and you gasp quietly, immediately straightening your back to loom at him seated at the head of the dining table.
His gaze is unwavering, his expression cold and unreadable to his entire family except for Polly who seems to be quite entertained by his theatrics, though so far she hasn’t spoken up to call him out. Perhaps she’s curious about his intentions, but judging by the way her eyes wander to you standing there on the other side like a deer caught in headlights he figures she already knows more than she lets on.
He couldn’t care less. When you finally dare to meet his eyes, after a moment of palpable tension, he’s certain to catch a flicker of bold amusement in your gaze before you rush to his side.
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
Blindly, he reaches out for you and in an instant, his palm finds the curve of your spine. His fingers trace along your back and dig into the fabric of your dress, pulling you an inch closer and keeping you there like a helpless kitten grasped by the neck.
It’s enough to make you curse under your breath, a string of foul words he never heard of you before and Tommy finds that he can sense the stuttering beat of your heart behind your shoulder blades — it gives him a strange satisfaction, the knowledge that he has so much power over you and although he never dared to taste it to the fullest on the tip of his tongue, he silently thanks his brothers for giving him the final push to claim what should have belonged to him since the beginning.
“I believe I left my cigarettes in my study. Will you be a good girl and get them for me, love?” It’s not a casual question. No, the syllables are drenched with a sort of sharpness only his enemies get to hear right before he puts the six feet under the cold earth, a subtle threat wrapped in false courtesy that causes you to tremble with fear and anticipation in his tight grasp.
“Go on.” When he finally nudges you towards the door and watches you sway out of the room, tender hands fiddling with the hem of your skirt and nearly stumbling over your feet, he can’t help but chuckle under his breath.
There’s a hunger inside him, a ravenous craving to take what is his, to make you squirm beneath his body and hear you cry out for mercy. His anger has taken over in a way he never experienced before, but he can feel it scorching hot in the pit of his stomach, can feel it settle at his feet in the form of the bloodhound that he has tried to lock away in his ribcage for his entire life — he runs his fingers through the raven fur and whispers the name of his next prey into his ears.
Your name.
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alexsoenomel · 1 year
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Amorevolous (Sam Winchester x Reader smut and fluff)
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Request: 
Sammy aftercare one shot? Like him and reader got really down and dirty but once the sex is over, he turns into soft boy, cuddling with reader, stroking her skin and bringing her back down from her high…?
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: sexy times nothing special and a little bit of a praising kink 
Word count: 859
Note: I LOVED WRITING THIS! Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)    
“Are you mine, (Y/N)?” Sam whispered in your ear while fucking you senseless.
You pull on his hair feeling every inch of him, not wanting him to stop. “Y-yes.” Was all that came from your mouth. 
“I wanna hear you say it!” He ordered.
“I am yours Sam! Only...yours!” Your breathing became heavier and more erratic since he was only making things harder. His pace was getting faster, his trusts stronger and the only thing you couldn’t do was....cum. Not until he tells you to. 
“Good girl.” He praised you knowing how much it turned you on.
He loved being in control, making you come undone and watching you not being able to stand up after. He was indeed a perfect pleasure dom. If you obeyed, you would get a reward and what you craved right now was a fucking orgasm. 
“Sam! I wanna cum!” You whined not knowing how much you can last. “Please!”
“You really wanna cum, huh?” Sam smirked speeding up the pace a little bit. 
“Yes, please!” You moaned. “Fuck!” 
He was torturing you and you were a spoiled brat, desperately wanting to orgasm.  You could feel your body curling up as the pleasure was building up with his every thrust. He was impossible. 
“Please Sammy!” 
“Only because you were so good! Cum!” He ordered. Fucking finally. 
You could finally let go. Gripping his back on both sides, digging your nails into his flesh you could finally let go. Sam flinched for a second feeling the pressure but didn’t say anything. He wanted you to enjoy every second of your orgasm. 
And you did. Arching your back as you screamed his name over and over again. His pace became slower until he finally stopped, kissed your lips and collapsed right next to you. 
“But what about you?” You asked him panting, trying to catch your breath. 
“Not about me today.” He said as he kissed your shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m.....shaking.” You laughed. “You really like to torture me Sammy.”
“Torturing you is for me, but everything else is for you. I get off on you in that state.” He explained.  “Cheeky.” 
Sam got off the bed and went to the bathroom. He came back few seconds later with a glass of water. “Here you go!” 
“You read my mind. I’m parched.” You said and chugged every drop of water in a matter of seconds. 
“I know.” He gave you a smile. “You always are afterwards.” 
Sam was big on aftercare, from the very beginning. He would tease the shit out you, make you lose your damn mind BUT always take care of you after. He never did anything you didn’t like and always respected your boundaries. He would play within those boundaries but never cross them. 
He laid next to you as you placed your head on his bare chest. You made sure you were both covered since it was pretty chilly in the bunker. 
“Was it good?” He asked you as he was stroking your hair. 
“Amazing.” You simply said. “It has been a while I really missed you.”
“I know.....4 long weeks.” 
Life of a hunter is not easy. Sometimes you would have to split up since monsters never sleep. That’s exactly what happened. Dean went to Lincoln, Nebraska to locate and kill a nasty vampire who was targeting young girls and got himself in trouble. You and Sam figured something wasn’t right when he didn’t pick up his phone for 10 hours, so naturally he had to go to Nebraska and find him. You on the other hand had to find and kill a ghost who was killing people in Lebanon. 4 longest weeks of your life.....
“I love you Sammy.” 
“I love you too.” He said and kissed your head. You moved right next to him as he moved on his side facing you before wrapping his hands around your waist and intertwining his legs with yours. He touched your nose with his, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. 
“I love when you do that.” You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his perfect nose. 
“Do what?” He asked and kissed your nose returning the same innocent kiss to you. 
“I love when you take care of me after sex. It makes me feel safe and loved.”
“I can make you lose your mind, call you my whore and not let you cum but once sex is over and you are satisfied you are my (Y/N) and my (Y/N) deserves love and cuddles.” 
His words never seem to be just words. What he said was what he delivered. It made your heart skip a beat like you were a teenager again. “My (Y/N)” - made you blush instantly.  Being his... every part of you was Sam’s, forever and always. 
“I love being yours.”
“I’m yours too, you know?” 
“I know.”
“Do you wanna take a shower and  then sleep? It’s kinda late.” 
You look at the clock...it was almost 3am. 
“Shower together?” You asked giving him puppy dog eyes. 
He just smiled and nodded. 
“Perfect! I want to wash your hair.”
“It’s all yours (Y/N).” 
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Danny Phantom but make him a circus/freakshow attraction headcanons
Maybe he was sold maybe he was captured. Danny couldn't quite remember threw the pain. The lab accident felt like decades ago but time goes slow when your hurting
The blood blossoms were always underfoot. The cage was small his muzzle tight and he was hungry.
So so hungry
Still he didn't look forward to his preformances to the gawking masked people or the salt circle his cage would be placed in or turning from boy to ghost for entertainments sake.
The first time he tried to escape when his box was opened.
That of course only made his capturer mad and earned him more blood blooms.
Dick hated places like this. Cruel hurtful places sullying the name of the circus. Maybe that's why he jumped at the chance to help spy on the freakshow that had recently come to town despite Bruce's worried expression. It wasn't hard to convince Bruce to let him go though. He knew circus lingo better than anyone else in the family after all. Sure his slang MAY be a little outdated but it didn't matter too much for just a few nights.
Dick has seen some horrible things and stayed pretty lighthearted, but because the circus is so sacred to him I think he takes this mission very seriously.
In the end it's him Bruce on the mission.
It wasn't hard to locate where the metas and "freaks" were being kept.
He entered the tent and between a man labeled "the cannibal" and Killer Croc who somehow got dragged into this, there was a young man in a muzzle kneeling on what looked like flowers.
Something about his eyes made him look almost haunted.
He moved on to the next row taking note of every poor soul there.
He was going to get them free.
Sure Bruce didn't like metas, but he wasn't heartless. It didn't take long for him to divide the staff into the willing and unwilling participants. It took him even less time to tie up the willing workers and to call in the Gotham police department.
When batman went to talk to the victims one stood out to him. The boy was muzzled his eyes rapidly switching from blue to green.
He couldn't have been older than Jason.
No one else there was muzzled.
He wondered briefly what made him so dangerous.
The question nagged at him as he asked person after person how they got here.
As expected no one was there voluntarily.
Speaking to an albino set of twins, the last to be questioned, he asked about the boy in the muzzle.
One twin merely shrugged and said he had been there the longest.
It was enough to strike empathy in him.
He approached carefully removing first the lock then the muzzle.
The young man almost pushed past him to get out.
Starting his questioning he asked where he was from and what his name is.
The young man, Danny apparently, didn't seam to remember much outside of the circus though. Where some of the more recently "aquired" captives remembered the older ones didnt
He could only imagine it was trauma holding them back.
Because this place was all he could remember, Danny didn't know what he wanted to do after he was free besides get far far away.
Bruce asked him no more questions.
General headcanons:
Danny is still sassy in this au but he's also bitter.
He doesn't talk much at first cause he's not used to it cause of the muzzle.
It takes quite a while for him to become more like his own self.
Sits on top of Wayne manor staring at the stars he doesn't remember why though.
He has "sad eyes" as babs and steph phrased it.
Bruce didn't mean to keep danny. He's basically a foster fail.
He will never here the end of such from Alfred.
Talking about Alfred he handles the new addition just fine
After all Danny broody and sassy.
He even has the light eyes dark hair combo.
Danny is kinda a foil to Dick. Where Dick is cheerful, Danny is jaded
Where Dick sees the circus as sacred Danny sees it as a trigger
They get along ok weirdly enough.
Jason swore when he first saw Danny.
"Bruce you got another damn kid"
Offers to take him away from Bruce if ever needed. Offer always stands.
Tim doesn't notice the ghost boy for about a week. He was just too sleep deprived.
When he did he assumed danny was a sleep deprivation hallucination
Now he doesn't know how to approach him so he treats him like he's always been there.
Cass understands Danny.
The silence between them is comfortable and amicable
Damian is Damian.
He isn't sure what to think so at first he comes of as aggressive.
That stands until he sees Danny in a fight for the first time.
Now he only wonders now this meta who can turn invisible and fly got caught.
He thinks better then to ask.
Slowly Danny learns to trust again. To live again.
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bieachella · 1 year
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jealous frank !!
this is so rushed sorry anon
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it’s not unusual for frank to go ghost for a few days, longest he’s gone was two weeks, but that was before you started seeing him.
he began calling every now and then. it was always
“how you been, baby?”
or “i’ll be back soon, princess.”
fuck, you missed him like hell.
you shouldn’t have gotten attached.
you decided that sulking over his absence was only going to plague your mind with the worst cases scenario.
you were going out tonight.
you slipped on your tightest mini skirt and shortest top and the glossy red lips were the cherry on top.
you hailed a cab and directed the driver to a bar that had recently caught your attention.
once you arrived you surveyed the crowd, looking for anyone that would make you forget about frank.
your eyes met a cute brunette boy, his tall frame towering over the bartender.
he flashed a smile and started walking towards you
“buy me a drink?” you smiled, beating him to it. your playful demeanor caught him off guard, and he chuckled, admiring your quick wit.
"ah, you got me there," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "but only if you promise to tell me your name."
the night seemed to go on forever, the boy was cute, he seemed to like you, like a lot.
his eyes flickered upwards when he heard the bell above the door jingle.
you turned your head and it was frank
fucking frank.
he flashed a toothy grin like he hadn’t been gone for the last week.
“you know him?” the boy asked you
“yeah, she does.” frank wasted no time slipping a hand over your waist and pulling you close to him.
you couldn't help but laugh
your jaw was practically unhinged.
“no, she doesn’t.” you said, removing his hand from your hip and averting your gaze to the boy
the boy looked the two of you up and down, “fuck that.”
he turned his back and made his way over to his group of friends.
“who was ‘at, baby?” frank said with a playful expression on his face
you couldn’t help but laugh.
was he fucking with you?
“you must be fucking joking.”
“baby, c’mon. don’t be like that”
you glared at frank, trying to contain your anger and frustration. his sudden appearance had disrupted what had been a promising night. you took a deep breath, attempting to regain your composure.
"dont be like what, frank?" you asked, your voice laced with irritation.
you scoffed, crossing your arms. "you disappeared for a whole week without a word. no calls, no texts, nothing. and now you show up here like nothing happened?"
his expression faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "look, baby, i had some stuff to take care of. you know how it is."
"no, i don't know how it is," you replied sharply.
he moves around you, now towering over your small frame.
as he looms over you, his imposing presence sends a chill down your spine. the way his broad shoulders seem to engulf everything in front of you only amplifies your feelings of vulnerability.
he leans in, trying to find your lips, but you turn away.
he seems fine with, attaching his lips to your neck instead
"let me make it up to you, princess," he mumbles into your skin.
you want to push him away, be mad at him, but the heat pooling in your stomach makes you want him, want him to fuck you in front of everyone.
you find the strength to tug at his hair and look him in the eyes.
"here?" you say with sex dripping from your lips
it's not long before he has you pushed up against the elevator in your apartment, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your neck.
"that boy fuck you while i was gone?" his voice, low and husky, sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to catch your breath.
despite the urgency of the situation, a flicker of amusement dances in your eyes.
"no, he didn't, frank, please touch me," you manage to respond, your voice a breathy whisper.
he exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "you lyin' to me, baby?" he says, his lips grazing your earlobe. the sound of his voice sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins.
"no, no frank," you couldn't think straight with his hard cock pressing into you.
the bell rings and he presses you against the wall, his body flush against yours.
you both stumble out of the elevator, you couldn't open the door fast enough because he has your front pushed up against it.
he tugs at your tight mini skirt, tossing it somewhere you wont find later.
he nips at the bare skin, skilled fingers finding the wet patch only growing wetter by the second
"barely even touched you, baby," he murmurs
"all wet f'me, huh," he says, trailing kisses up to your leaking cunt
desire flooding your thoughts "mmmmmhm, frank, fuck me, please,"
"dont worry your pretty little head, baby, ill take care of you," he says before moving your panties to the side and licking a stripe up your wet folds.
"im the only one who'll ever see this pussy, princess," he says in between laps, "understand me?"
"fuck, yes." the words stumble out of your mouth
you feel the familiar heat forming in your belly,
fuck, you're so close
frank pulls away, leaving you wanting.
the sudden loss breaks a small whimper out of you
you don't even register the moments before his cock is teasing your hole
"tell me how much you want it, baby."
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Hellooo! I’m new to your page and I LOVE your writing! I’d like to request Jason with a s/o that can see and communicate with ghosts (Jason doesn’t know this) and his s/o keeps seeing his moms ghost around him and finally one night his s/o tells him that they can see ghosts and they also mention that there’s a host that keeps following his around
I’d like to see his reaction and how he would fell:) just fluff in general, Ty and have a good day❤️
Here we go, sorry this took so long!
Jason with an S/O who can see his mother’s ghost
She is actually the first hint at his presence at the lake. The chill of her arrival announces him. For the longest time, she doesn’t know that you can see and hear her.
Your fellow campers begin to disappear, and you leave that without comment. You warned them, and now they suffer the consequences of not listening.
Finally, you are the only one left, and Jason finally approaches you.
You don’t quite know how you managed to convince him that you are worth sparing, but you are happy nonetheless. You want to bring up the ghost that keeps following him, but how would one even start a conversation like that?
So one night, you just decide to come out with it.
„I can see ghosts.“
The statements hangs in the air for a few seconds, and Jason curiously tilts his head at you.
„And… there’s always a ghost around you. Always. She never leaves you.“ That catches his attention. One would imagine that he is constantly being hounded by the spectres of his victims, but there is, in fact, only one that is a constant presence around him.
„Uhm. She is… middle aged. Short, curly hair. Brown eyes. And wearing a blue-“
Jason jumps up and rushes out of the room before you can finish the description. Shortly after that, he returns with an old photograph in his hand. He shows it to you.
„That’s her! The spirit looks a bit older, but that’s definitely the same person.“ You halt when everything finally clicks into place. „Is that… your mom?“
Both Jason and the specter attached to him nod gravely.
„Well… guess now you know that she never really left you“, you continue awkwardly. „She’s been here the entire time.“
Jason looks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her himself, but lowers his head when he doesn’t.
You put your hand on his. „If you need a bit of time, I understand.“
He shakes his head, not sure what to make of all of this. Give him time. Eventually he comes to term with your ability and starts asking you to always let him how how his mother is doing, and you begin to pass messages from her onto him.
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indigosunsetao3 · 2 months
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One More Time
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Pairing: Soap/Ghost
Warning: Sad times. I cried writing this. You've been warned.
Summary: Simon and Johnny are parents now but their past lives come knocking and one of them doesn’t come home.
Word Count: 2.9k
Dinner was done. The dishes left piled in the sink forgotten, the table still covered in crumbs and drops of spilled juice littering the placemats. Normally cleaning the kitchen after dinner was a family affair, just like making the meal, but tonight was a bit different.
Tonight, Johnny and Simon had collapsed on the couch in the living room and flipped on their son’s latest obsession on the television. He was currently in his dinosaur phase, pajamas and bedtime stuffie both fitting into the theme. While Da’ and Daddy had learned enough about the reptiles to last them a lifetime in trivia night, they obliged his request for another dino movie.
“Settle in,” Simon murmured as he rested his arm on the back of the couch for their boy to clamor in. While their son was the spitting image of Johnny, down to his lip pout when he was thinking, he was glued to Simon. He wanted to be wherever daddy was at any given moment and would talk his ear off after school. He loved his Da of course, but Da had been there for as long as he could remember.
Johnny had left the taskforce life all together when their boy was one, opting to stay home and care for him while Simon figured out just what he wanted to do. It took Simon longer to quit, to realize civilian life was what he needed and craved now. When he and Johnny they decided that they wanted to grow the family again Simon finally hung up the helmet to be home.
“Did you know that t-rexs have the longest teeth?” Callum asked as he held up his own stuffed toy to show Simon who had pulled a blanket down over them. “As long as your arm!” Callum grinned as he poked at Simon’s forearm. “It could eat you in one bite!”
“I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere,” Simon answered with a grin as he flicked his eyes over to Johnny. It was one of the many fun facts that were on constant rotation in the household. “It’s a good thing they aren’t around anymore, wouldn’t want to worry about one of those getting me on the walk home from the park.”
“Aye, you could try outrunning it though,” Johnny supplied as he adjusted Eloise’s head gently while she gripped hard at the bottle and gave a small whine because the milk flow had stopped.
At six months old she was a bit tiny for her age, falling in the lower percentile for weight and height. The doctors weren’t too concerned given the fact Simon had apparently been a small child, but Johnny was. He always made sure she was fed whenever she asked, well screamed, for it and her nighttime bottles were always something he wanted to do just to be sure she ate enough.
Simon wasn’t as fussed, telling Johnny she was perfectly fine and far from starving with her little pudgy legs he liked to lightly pinch to make her giggle. Johnny just felt she was fragile, a whisp of a thing compared to Callum at her age. Maybe it was the fine blond hair, so light it was almost invisible, or the piercing blue eyes that looked like sea glass that made him think she was so breakable. Johnny teased it must be an English thing to be so small but Simon answered that Scots were just giant brutes which is why she seemed so little.
“You can’t outrun the dinosaur Da,” Callum admonished with a small frown at his father, “you’d have to hide.”
“Right, yes, how silly of me,” Johnny answered with a small laugh as Callum huffed and snuggled more into Simon’s side. He carefully tucked his dino under the blanket with him and held him tight as he rested his head on Simon’s ribs and locked into the television show.  For a five year old he had a pretty decent attention span and would huff if you tried to interrupt him with whatever he was doing.
“I still think I could outrun it,” Simon said quietly to Johnny as his hand on the back of the couch lightly brushed over the back of Johnny’s neck. He was watching Johnny carefully as he in turn stared at their daughter. Her bright blue eyes, ever sharp and observant like his, began to grow heavy from the full belly and warmth of Johnny’s embrace. It wasn’t long before her little hands slipped from their grip and Soap gently plucked the empty bottle from her lips and set it on the coffee table. “She’ll probably go down if you put her in the crib,” Simon offered as Johnny brushed some of her curls off her forehead.
“Just a bit longer,” Johnny said quietly as he looked down at her before glancing at Simon and Callum. Johnny’s mother warned they would spoil her if he carried her around all the time and he was trying to break the habit; especially now.
His mother was going to have her hands full when she came the next day to watch the children and she wasn’t going to be able to carry Eloise all the time. It was a lot of work to care for two children at once on your own, let alone at her age. Not that his mother would ever admit that of course. “I’m just racking up the cuddles while I can. Before she turns into a traitor like that one,” he grinned a bit as Callum adjusted and burrowed further into Simon’s side, his hand coming up to rest under his cheek and over the large scar that ran down Simon’s ribs.
They sat in amiable silence for a while, the show on the television continuing on keeping Callum’s attention locked. Johnny and Simon didn’t really watch though, their eyes drifting over their children and one another in the semi-darkness. It was as if they were both trying to absorb every detail, imprint each moment and feeling into their minds to have with them at all times because they needed it. They had fought like hell, apart and together, for this life and when the darkness crept in this is what kept both of them afloat.
“Come on,” Simon said quietly to Johnny. Callum had drifted off to sleep a bit ago and the movie had ended and credits were rolling. Neither of them had moved as their children slept but when Callum whined and tried to stretch out Simon decided it was time to tuck them in bed. He rose first and scooped their son up in one arm against his chest, careful to grab his stuffed dino and propped it between his head and shoulder before offering a hand to pull Johnny up. Johnny took it, careful to not jostle Eloise before they both padded quietly up the stairs to the children’s rooms.
Extracting Eloise from his grip and setting her into the crib was a bit of an art form. She was a light sleeper and if she wasn’t settled and all quiet quickly, she’d be up and screaming. Johnny gently laid her down, leaning on the crib bar to watch her twist a bit before falling still back into her deep sleep. He could stay there for hours just watching her but he gently ran the back of his hand over her cheek before stepping out, sidestepping Simon who had come in to say his own goodnight.
Callum was out in his room, already sprawled in his bed with his mouth wide open and leg kicked out from under the blankets. He was a hot sleeper, like his Da, and Johnny grinned a bit as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was going to miss this, miss the bedtime routine of him and Simon switching off to tell their children goodnight until one of them chivvied the other off to their own bed. It was usually Simon hustling Johnny away, but there had been a few nights Johnny had found Simon sitting in one of the rooms watching their kids when his nightmares had chased him from his sleep.
“It’s going to be alright,” Simon said a few minutes later as Johnny stood at the kitchen sink rinsing off the dishes. He had been staring off at nothing absently wiping at the small plate that held Callum’s dinner when Simon walked up behind him. “You don’t have to do this,” he tacked on for the umpteenth time, his hands sliding around Johnny’s torso as he rested his chin on the small crook between his neck and shoulder. “I can go, you stay with them and I’ll be home when it’s over.”
“No,” Johnny answered as he set the dish and rag down and planted his hands on the counter to brace himself. “We decided it was all or nothing,” he reasoned as he shut his eyes and drew in a breath. “They were desperate enough to call us, they need everything they can get,” Johnny continued as one hand came up to rest over
“Johnny,” Simon started but Johnny squeezed his hand hard and he sighed and just planted a kiss on the soft spot of skin. Simon had been out for two years now, Johnny four, but when that phone rang three weeks ago they both knew what was about to be asked of them. They weren’t blind to the news, to the secrets that still found their way to their ears, or the fact that Price was gone more often then he was home these days. Price was always around their house when he was home, spoiling Callum and doting on Eloise but those visits were growing less and less and more time was passing between each one. “Fine,” he resigned, “but you know how I feel about it.”
Johnny knew Simon wanted him to stay home. That he had been out so long Simon was terrified for him to go back, afraid his skills were rusty and he wasn’t ready and would get himself hurt or killed. The thought alone had woken Simon up at night in a sweaty frantic mess that had him scrambling for Johnny in the dark so he could put his head on his chest and just listen to his heartbeat. It had been years since Simon needed that comfort but one single phone call had set him back. Johnny wasn’t much better, he barely slept those years Simon stayed in service and he had actually wept when Simon finally agreed he was done.
 “We’ll just have to keep each other alive then,” Johnny reasoned quietly with a small laugh that fell flat from genuine. The odds were stacked against them, Makarov was not an enemy that many walked away from which is why they were so desperate for the help. Price hated calling, hated asking, but if he wasn’t stopped the world was going to very possibly end. They had to do it, had to step in and help if not for them then for their children who were sleeping peacefully upstairs. “Callum will never forgive me if Daddy isn’t around to wrestle and make his sandwiches the way he likes.”
“You just have to cut the bread diagonally,” Simon answered with a grin against Johnny’s skin. “I’ve told you that before,” he continued as Johnny turned around in his embrace and cupped his face.
“See, I’ve tried that but he still insists yours are always better,” Johnny answered before giving Simon a light kiss, his lips tracing over the scars on Simon’s own. “We’ve got an early start. My mum will scrub the place from top to bottom anyway,” he reasoned as he peered at the dishes still in the sink. His mother was coming to stay with the children while they were gone.
Simon gently pulled Johnny to their bedroom and kicked the door shut before they fell into bed. It was possibly their last night together for a long while so none of their touches or kisses were hurried or rushed. They spent many minutes just enjoying the feel of one another, admiring the way they fit together in more ways than one, before sighing contently as they curled up in the dark. Neither of them spoke as they held one another watching as the clock ticked too quickly to the next day.
They slipped out in morning before Callum or Eloise awoke with just Johnny’s mom to see them off. They had said their goodbyes to their sleeping forms, planting soft lingering kisses on their foreheads and watching them for a few more minutes together. Their children had never seen them like this, in their tactical gear with a hard cold look behind their eyes. It was something Johnny and Simon had been so careful to tuck away from them, to keep them safe from, because this wasn’t Da and Daddy. This was Soap and Ghost, the men from before that kept the monsters at bay and the world at peace no matter the cost or sacrifice.
8 months later
“Let’s go Callum,” Simon called from the steps he was perched on. His son looked up from the swings before jumping off in an impossibly high arch and landing hard on his feet in the mulch with a grin. Johnny would have had a heart attack if he saw but it only made Simon smile more at that thought. Scooping Eloise up from her spot in the sandbox Simon turned and headed back into the house. It was a nice day outside, the only one that had a full day of sun in weeks, which was fitting since it was Johnny’s birthday.
Walking inside Simon tugged off Eloise’s sandy shoes before setting her down to go run off into the living room where Price was sat. The team always made it a point to get together for birthday’s even if it meant they were sitting across the world in a hovel or at someone’s house. Gaz hadn’t arrived yet but Simon wasn’t fussed, he wasn’t as much of a stickler for time like Johnny.
“Daddy,” Callum called from the kitchen, perched on one of the bar chairs. Simon looked up from washing his hands and raised an eyebrow to indicate he was listening. “Daddy, who is Soap?” He asked as he peered at the birthday cake tucked safely behind a plastic cover to keep little fingers from digging at the icing.
“That’s Da,” Simon said with a soft smile as he turned off the water and dried his hands.
“No,” Callum argued back as he dug the little necklace out from under his shirt that tinkled with dog tags. “Da is John,” he reasoned as he held the metal up as proof, showing where it said John MacTavish and his serial number.
“Da had another name before you met him,” Simon answered, “and today you get to learn about it.”
“Oh,” Callum puzzled over the news for a moment as his fingers twisted the necklace, “did you have another name too? Does everyone get a new name when they become mommy’s and daddy’s?”
“I did,” Simon answered, “but no, people don’t get new names when they have children…these were nicknames.”
“What was yours?” Callum asked excitedly as he let his necklace drop. “Can I get a nickname?”
“You’ll learn, one day,” Simon answered a bit sadly. “But today is about Da. We’ll figure out a nickname for you, though I think grubby would be fitting.” He pointed at Callum’s face which had dirt smudged across it. “Go get cleaned up before we sit down to eat.”
Callum spun in his chair and quickly dropped to the floor before bolting out of the kitchen, calling out a hello to Price as he sat on the floor with Eloise. Simon watched him go, taking a moment in the silence to take a deep breath and pull his own necklace out from under his shirt. Dangling on the metal chain was his dog tag and Johnny’s wedding ring which he rubbed gently between his finger and thumb.
It was the first birthday they would be celebrating without Johnny because he hadn’t come home from their last mission. Despite all the promises to keep one another alive Simon had failed. Johnny had taken a shot to the head in an effort to end Makarov and Simon was just a moment too late, a step too slow. He had been so worried that Johnny was rusty he hadn’t considered it was him that wasn’t ready.
 “Happy Birthday Johnny,” Simon said quietly to himself as he looked at the urn of ashes across the way in the living room. The house felt cold without his better half there, movie nights on the couch weren’t the same without his Scottish brute lounging with Eloise on his chest and teasing Callum by purposely getting dinosaur facts wrong.
Though as Callum poked his head into the kitchen to ask if they could have cake before dinner Simon thought, in some ways, Johnny was very much alive and there with him.
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tat3sbbg · 10 months
Note
Could you write a smut about dom Tate
Absofuckinlutley. I want him to rail my guts out 😩
FEATURING: Reblog from taintandviolent, an audio ;) Longest thing I've written, I think (:0
𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙢𝙚, 𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙇𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙙𝙤𝙣
Dom!Tate Langdon x reader smut
𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: degradation, praise, smut, bit of choking, p in v penetration, reader is on birth control, but no condom, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), tate kind of throat fucks reader? female masturbation
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You hadn't had the privacy in forever to touch yourself, being in the same house with ghosts and stuff. Your parents enjoyed horror somewhat, and wanted to buy the house just to say they owned it. You'd been living there for four months now, and had never been left alone by a particular ghost: Tate Langdon. Not to say you didn't think he wasn't attractive. You thought he was very, very attractive. And you were around his age, too! You daydreamed in class about him, and when he left you alone long enough to sleep, you touched yourself to the thought of him. Needless to say, you loved him. The only person who knew that was your best friend, who lived back in your hometown.
Tate thought you were very pretty, but never had the courage to tell you. There was no way he would scare you off by being a creep and telling you he'd been watching you for months. You'd come home and he'd be sleeping on your bed, on your desk scrolling through your computer, listening to your music, going through your stuff, or some other thing he felt like. He did what he wanted. He could, he was dead. You were so adorable to him, shorter than him and all. He especially loved when you'd go to sleep, in nothing but a t-shirt, or sometimes naked. This was something he'd never admit, though.
You'd come home from school kind of stressed and upset because some girl had been mean to you about not having a crush at school. Little did she know, it was a ghost living in your house and bothering you you'd had a crush on. Your parents wouldn't be home for another 4 hours or so, leaving you some time to relax. You went upstairs to your room to find Tate not sitting somewhere for once. 'God, he must be playing a godamn trick on me, he's always here.' You thought to yourself. It very well could be true, he was always there. But within 5 minutes, he hadn't jumped out at you, he hadn't knocked anything down, he hadn't screamed. It was silent. You cautiously pulled off your jeans and replaced them for short, black spandex shorts and your shirt for a short cut but flowy crop top. You put a video on your laptop and watched it.
Sooner or later though, you found your mind lingering to thoughts of Tate. He was all you could think about. His voice, his hands, his hair, his face, how he'd look naked, etc. This made you very wet. Not to your surprise, this almost always happened. You sighed, remembering he wasn't in the room, and you hadn't heard anything. You thought of touching yourself, and then did it.
Your hands pulled up your shirt, and then pulled down your pants. you started touching your clit, then rubbing at a steady pace. You softly moaned and whined, thinking of a fantasy about Tate. This was almost the only thing you were able to masturbate to anymore.
"Tate...Oh Tate..." You moaned, twitching and on the edge of orgasm. You had been so immersed you didn't hear his footsteps. He went to touch your doorknob, and twisted it. It was too late.
"What are you doing?" Tate asked skeptically. Of course, he just wanted to hear it from you. He knew exactly what you were doing. He'd heard. In fact, he'd been outside for a couple minutes. But you didn't know that.
"T-Tate! Why didn't you knock? I was doing nothing!" You defended.
"Oh really? Then why were you moaning? And why is your shirt up, and your sheets over your waist?" He asked. You knew you couldn't hide if for long, if he heard your moans he heard his name.
"God, you're pathetic aren't you? You won't even admit it! I already heard you!" Tate laughed, hands on his knees as he laughed at you.
You gasped and your thighs clenched. Him calling you pathetic only made you wetter. You were really getting wet at him calling you pathetic? You wanted him, you were so horny.
"T-Tate..." You whined, clenching your thighs harder. You whined his name in a annoyed way.
He slowly walked over to the edge of the bed, and leaned over to where you were. He looked amused by it, but deep in his eyes, you saw lust. Desire. Horniness.
"Awww, are you getting turned on by me teasing you?" Tate whispered in your ear.
You'd never expected him to find out about your kinks, he'd always pried but you never opened up about it. Now, here he was, standing in front of you and whispering in your ear after he caught you masturbating. God, did it turn you on.
"Answer me." He demanded, his voice suddenly getting deeper and more commanding.
You were shocked. Tate never got demanding like that, and you never thought he would ever do that. It only made your clit throb.
"What do you want me to say, Tate?" You asked, acting like you weren't wet for him.
"To tell me the truth. Does me teasing you turn you on or not?" He asked, only getting more demanding.
"It does, okay?" You admitted. You never thought he'd come on to you like this. Ever.
"Do you fantasize about me a lot?" Tate questioned, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Yes, I do." You admitted, looking down at your feet in embarrassment. You were humiliated, ashamed. And somehow it still turned you on.
He played with your bottom lip with his thumb, running it over the soft skin of your lips. You wanted him to kiss you more than you cared to admit. Then, as if he were reading your thoughts, he did.
"This okay?" He asked, getting consent. You nodded to him, letting him do as he wished.
It was the most satisfied you'd ever been, his lips on yours. His fingers began to linger, touching your delicate skin. His hands settled on your hips, pulling you into the kiss. Into him. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging at it. He pushed you over, causing you to land on your back on the bed. His mouth started going lower, kissing your neck, biting and sucking to leave marks.
"Mine," He said under his breath, "All fucking mine."
You moaned softly at the feeling, whining his name. He smirked and kissed lower, down your chest, stomach, leaving hickies and finally reaching your panties. His fingers tugged them down, throwing them off to the side with the other clothes. He glanced up at you while he licked a stripe up your pussy.
"That tastes so fucking good," Tate mumbled, "You hear me? You taste really good."
You whimpered, his tongue feeling incredible against your heat. He inserted two fingers into your tight, wet hole, slowly moving them back and forth.
"Do you play with yourself a lot?" He asked, glancing up at you again, smiling when he saw your face twisted in pleasure.
"Mhm." You hummed, tugging at his blonde locks again.
He went back to sucking your clit and fingering your hole, until you finally came. He stood up from his spot kneeling on the floor and looked you right in the fucking eyes as he licked your cum from his fingers.
"I-I want it..." You begged.
"You want what? What do you want?" He asked teasingly, smirking at your desperation.
"I want you to fuck me, with your cock! Please..." You admitted, succumbing to his control.
"Beg me for mercy. Then maybe I'll do it." He said, beginning to take off his pants, boxers and shirt.
"Please, have mercy on me, fuck me!" You cried, pussy wet and legs spread.
He chuckled and slowly pushed into you, he wasn't lying when he said he had a big dick. You felt so full once he was fully inside of you, like he was splitting you in half. For him, it was snug, but not too tight to where he couldn't move.
"You can move now..." You assured him, and like a dog getting the command to sit, he did.
"Taking me so good. Like a slut." He spat, thrusting faster with each minute.
He continued to say degrades laced with praise, thrusting at a fast pace now. You felt so good, every time his hips slammed against yours, he hit your clit. His hand came up to wrap around your throat and squeeze softly, his forehead sweaty. He was grunting and mumbling under his breath as he thrusted inside you, a bulge visible. You could tell he was quickly becoming close, and so were you.
"Could I cum inside?" He asked, not wanting to push and was completely fine if you said no.
"Yeah, I'm on the pill," You responded panting, "I'm close too."
"Cum for me then." He demanded, rubbing your sore clit with his fingers.
You came with a cry of his name, and he followed shortly after. He had filled you to the brim. He pulled out and you both breathed heavily for a minute before he left. You watched as he exited the room, worried he wouldn't come back and you were just a quick fuck. Soon, your worries were put to rest as he came back with a glass of cold water, some snacks and a warm, damp hand towel. He kissed your cheek and put the water down on a coaster on your bed side table, and slid his fingers into you to clean his cum out. You winced, still sore.
"I'm sorry," He cooed, "It's just to clean you up, baby." He slid the warm towel over your body, then over your heat.
He had never been this nice before. It was almost unnatural to you to hear him apologize and not laugh, to kiss your cheek and clean you, just wow...It all surprised you. You had just had sex with the guy you'd had a crush on for months, who also teased you, and was always in your bedroom bothering you.
"You did so well, your so pretty," He praised, "Such a good girl."
He threw one of his shirts and some underwear at you, then put on his own underwear and some shorts. After you dressed and he lied down and turned the TV on, you got to thinking: What were you two now? I mean, you'd just fucked. Something lovers do. Were you lovers? Or friends with benefits? Was this a one time thing and you'd never fuck again?
"Tate, what are we now?" You turned to him and asked.
"Whatever you want us to be, I guess," He began, "If you want us to date, then we can date. Do you have a crush on me, or were you just horny and needed someone and I was the first one to come to mind?" He asked. He really hoped you liked him and wanted to date, because he liked you too. But, he was a ghost and could never leave the house.
"I want to date. I do have a crush on you, but I didn't think you'd feel the same way." You confessed.
He turned onto his side and propped himself up with his elbow. "Of course I like you back. I wouldn't have done this with you if I didn't!" He insisted, trying his very best to reassure you.
"So, we're dating, then? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" You asked.
He pulled you to his chest and kissed you suddenly, throwing you off guard.
"Yeah, we are." He smiled, playing with your hair.
"Love you, Tate." You whispered, hoping he'd hear.
"Love you too, baby."
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captain-mj · 8 months
Text
Vampires Part 8
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Soap sat at the table right after sunset. His vampires, Price, and now Chuy, because apparently he decided to invite himself in, were sitting with him. Chuy was wearing his outfit again, deer skull included. It made him look very unnerving. 
“So your fiance will be here soon?”
Price nodded excitedly. “Yep. She’s wonderful.”
“She?” Ghost laughed before realizing he was serious. “Ah. Damn. Seriously?”
Price frowned. “I’m bisexual.”
“I know, I just thought better of women. Even witch women.” Ghost replied, shrugging. 
Price stared at him, slightly opened mouthed. “Damn. Cold, Simon.”
“Ghost.”
“Simon. Anyway, she’ll be here shortly. Her name is Clara.” He looked so happy that Soap couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Even if he was pretty sure Price was being used. 
Alejandro hummed. “Right. Anyway.”
Rodolfo raised his hand. “I don’t really care about your fiance, I’m more worried about the hunter walking around talking about bigfoot. Can we focus on that?”
“No. you guys gotta meet my fiance.” 
“Fuck that.” Alejandro spoke up. “I agree with my lovely husband.” He kissed Rudy’s hand, looking at him with giant heart eyes. 
Ghost groaned. “Do you guys have to be so in love?”
“Loser.” 
“Lonely ass bitch.” 
Ghost frowned. “Goddamn…” 
Price hissed loudly and they all turned towards him. He looked a little flustered, as if they weren’t actually supposed to hear him. He took a deep breath. “As the eldest vampire, I am requesting you guys please meet her.” It was said with a touch of… sincerity that had been absent from Price in a wild. 
Interviewer: I’ve been meaning to ask. Ghost puts up with Price because he’s his sire. Rodolfo seems to like him. However, you don’t seem to like him. 
Alejandro: Don’t know. Guess I miss how he was. Sometimes it feels like I got the last few years of lucidity. He probably told he was four hundred years older than Ghost right?
Interviewer: I thought he said two hundred.
Alejandro: He told Rodolfo a hundred. I thought for the longest time it was just something he did, but I think he just doesn’t remember.
Interviewer: Ah. And the comment about lucidity.
Alejandro: I think he’s half insane. It happens. Mentally, being alive a long time… it makes things tiring. 
Interviewer: I noticed the way you looked away when Rodolfo asked if you regretted being turned. Do you?
Alejandro: No. Course not. I love my husband.
Interviewer: I can see your love and devotion to him. But I’m asking, do you wish you died human? 
Alejandro: Sometimes, I do. I wish Rodolfo killed me that night. However, I’d never want to make him go through the centuries alone, so I’m glad I am here with him. 
Interviewer: Thank you, Alejandro.
“Alright, sir.” Ghost mumbled. “I’ll meet Clara.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. 
Price smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, Simon. Rodolfo, Alejandro, Gaz, I hope you all like her.”
Simon and Chuy looked at each other and shook their heads.
Gaz hummed. “Will it be super awkward?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Gaz nodded. “That sounds nice. Like chicken soup after a hard day. I’m in.” 
Interviewer: So do you regret turning into a vampire?
Gaz: How do you know I wasn’t born an energy vampire?
Interviewer: Oh, were you? That’s fascinating.
Gaz: No, I mean I was turned. Just why did you assume?
Interviewer: I mean. I just thought all vampires were turned. Who was your sire? 
Gaz: My mom when she birthed me. I lied, I was born.
Interviewer canceled the rest of the interviewer due to “broken pencils”. 
Price smiled fondly at Gaz before quickly going to get the door, answering before Clara even had the chance to knock. She giggled as he picked her up and twirled her before leading her to the kitchen. 
“Oh this is nauseating.” 
Rodolfo hit Ghost. “They’re cute.”
They kissed passionately. 
“Nevermind.” Rodolfo hissed under his breath. “Clara?”
Clara quickly pushed Price back a little and properly introduced herself. She was how described. Dark hair and nice. 
Too nice. 
Soap liked her. She shook his head and smiled at him before moving on to them. 
“Oh!” Clara said softly while staring at Ghost. “You must be Simon.”
Price flinched and looked guilty. And a tiny bit betrayed, as if he had warned her prior.
“Don’t call me that.” Ghost got up. “Okay, this is horrible. I need to leave.”
Price grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “A little effort.” 
“Don’t call me something stupid.”
Price sighed and plastered a smile on his face. “Ghost.” He introduced everyone there to Clara and Clara waved just a little. She didn’t look at Price much, but when she did, she did look like she liked him. Maybe not love in any of their opinions, but that’s okay. Maybe it would blossom? 
If they stayed together long enough. 
Maybe. 
The two of them stared at each other for just a second and Chuy got uncomfortable. 
“Alright. I’m gonna head out.” 
Clara frowned a little before perking up. “I’ve heard about a hunter in this area. Hope you’re doing okay and he hasn’t given you too many problems.”
Chuy faltered and shrank down when Reyes got brought up. Ghost wondered why he didn’t just have them get rid of the guy. It would be easier. 
“Well… yeah. He’s uh… Yeah…”
Clara noticed his hesitance and decided to drop it. 
They had a delightful conversation honestly. 
Price informed them all that the wedding would be that Friday. “Because of the goddess Freyja. May she bless our marriage.” He smiled, showing fangs. 
Rodolfo looked at the interviewer, clearly cringing. 
“That sounds wonderful.”
“May Clara stay here until then? We’re having the ceremony in the graveyard nearby.” Price took his hat off and held it to his chest in a pleading manner.
Collective groans occurred before they agreed. She could stay. 
Interviewer: The vampires think you’re after Price for his… uh…
Clara: His money? No. I’m rich enough actually.
Interviewer: No his… um… Dick?
Clara: It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not that artificial. I just want his heart. 
Interviewer: That’s sweet. 
Gaz put his hands on the table. “Before I ask this, I promise not to feed on anyone.”
Price nodded. “Okay.”
“Can I bring Alex?”
“That dog?” Price groaned. 
Alejandro started to look at face masks and Febreze. 
“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. You can’t tell me he’s not attractive.”
Soap nodded. “And really cool too.”
“See! And he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like cologne because he drowns himself in it before he comes here.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
Gaz sighed. “If he can’t come, I’m not coming.”
Price rubbed his temples. “Alright. He can come. Have him invite Laswell too.”
“At that point, why not invite the rest of the pack?” Alejandro pointed out, frowning. More out of confusion than anything else now. 
“Fair. Let’s just invite all of them. And Chuy. And Koenig if the lad can ever make it here. I heard he was coming to our area a while ago.” Price pointed out. 
Ghost hummed. “I’ll reach out to him through the ether later.”
“Fantastic idea!” Price clapped, looking very excited. “I’m getting married again!” 
Interviewer: So, why do you want to kill bigfoot so bad?
Reyes: Bigfoot took someone very dear to me. 
Interviewer: You want revenge?
Reyes: Yes. Bigfoot took… well. I shouldn’t say boyfriend. We were neighbors. Jesus. He was beautiful. He was kind. Rather generous but could set harsh boundaries if needed. I fell in love with him more every time we interacted. I watched that thing disappear from his home the same night he disappeared. 
Interviewer: And why a crossbow?
Reyes: Well, the majority of hunters use them. They’re quieter, easier to certain materials, and you can reuse arrows. Plus, a lot of creatures aren’t hurt by bullets and needed something sharp that will pierce them. 
Interviewer: Fascinating. Thank you so much. What else do you hunt?
Reyes: Well, normally I hunt and kill werewolves but since the night happened, bigfoot is all I have my eyes on. 
Interviewer: Understood. And where are your plans now?
Reyes: To break into the Scottish man’s home because I know he’s harboring monsters. 
Interviewer: How can you tell?
Reyes: Only someone who knows of monsters listens to advice from someone who’s a monster hunter. He didn’t take me seriously, so he wasn’t paranoid. 
Interviewer: That’s smart.
Reyes stayed true to his word. He caught them by surprise because the interviewer wasn’t going to interfere there. With his crossbow in hand, he aimed right at Chuy. Deer skull shining in the cryptic light of the room. 
“You bastard. I am finally getting my revenge against you.”
Chuy perked up when he came into the room. Not flinched or shrank or looked to leave. He leaned into Reyes’s aim. Soap thought he was an odd fellow. 
“Why?” Rodolfo interrupted his clearly well thought out speech. He was currently sewing and seemed a bit put off about being interrupted. Everyone else was around doing similar hobbies now that Price had stopped talking to them. Even Soap was just casually drawing. 
Reyes stumbled over it, caught off guard. “As I was about to explain.”
Clara snapped her fingers. There was no blast or light. Just a simple sound. 
Reyes swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Ah…. I was saying…” He paused again and this time frowned. His nose twitched and all the bravado left him. 
The man shook and shuddered, not fully reacting yet but clearly something… internal was happening. 
Chuy stood and rushed to grab Reyes who tried to get away from him. Soap prepared himself to watch Chuy rip the man to shreds but before Chuy could even lift his mask to uncover his mouth, Reyes shrank and contorted. His body twisted and curled, enough to drag ragged, pained groans before they transitioned into squeaks. The shirt in Chuy’s hands stayed solid but the rest dissolved and bubbled into the rest of him. And in his place stood. 
A rat. 
Well groomed and with fur as dark as Reyes’s hair. It looked soft. Almost cute. 
Chuy scooped him up immediately. “Enzo?”
The rats frantic movements to escape halted as it went still, looking at Chuy with wide rat eyes. 
Chuy slid the mask off, revealing his face to the rat who continued to stare.
“Mi corazón. I am so sorry. I was so bored with my old life, I never anticipated anyone noticing me being gone. Yes, I lived as your neighbor your years, but I never realized how you looked at me.”
Alejandro stopped playing the piano. The room was silent.
“I noticed you but you were human. I couldn’t… drag you into this world when it’s so unsafe.”
If Ghost put his hand on Soap, it wasn’t noticeable. 
“I live so long. I wanted to start new. Do something completely different. You were… new. So fun. Interesting. As you chased me, I will admit, I grew affectionate for you. Maybe that was my mistake, putting you in such danger.” Chuy gently pet the rat, watching it relax. “Mi corazón, can you understand me?”
No response. 
“That is okay. It’s best you still don’t know my affections. You should go home. Be human like you’re supposed to be.” 
Chuy gently held the rat. “My sweet Enzo.” He took a deep breath and held him out to Clara. “I appreciate what you did. But I’d like you to turn him back and erase his memories of me.” 
Clara frowned. “No.”
Chuy frowned. “What. No. You don’t get to say no, change him back.”
“I can’t. I’m not able to erase memories. Not the right kind of witch for that. If I make him human, he’ll probably kill us.”
“No, listen, I can talk to him then. Convince him to leave, he has a soft spot for me, It’ll be fine.”
Clara frowned and waved her hand, but nothing happened. “Sorry, out of juice. He’s stuck.”
Chuy stared at Enzo, the rat in his hands. 
“Look, luckily with his age, you have another few months!” She clapped happily. “Plus, well, he was only human. What’s the saying? Don’t worry about breaking them, they’ll die soon anyway? Or is it don’t worry about breaking them, they’re replaceable? You said it yourself, this world is dangerous for him. At least now, you can keep him safe in your pocket. Now, I’m going to go finish planning my wedding.”
Chuy stared at Reyes in his hands, clearly seething. He growled and Soap noticed how many teeth he had. 
“Do any of you know any other fucking witches?”
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Text
one thing i like about me (is that i’m nothing like you and i never will be) (lt. bradley “rooster” bradshaw)
a/n: the title came together for this and then the rest all just fell into place. currently, this is the last thing i’ve got planned out for same mistakes-verse so if there’s something else y’all want to see in particular... i’m all ears. first, this is tagged as a rooster fic because same mistakes is but it’s got a hefty dose of Coyote. this is a behemoth of a thing. honestly, you gotta read best bud, you alright bud? and a slice of life before you read this, no exceptions (otherwise you’ll be lost lmfao). this is the longest thing i’ve ever written
summary: Coyote decides to put an end to the legacy of the Green Vipers. the truth comes out, much to Rebel’s chagrin. what happens next leaves their friendship in pieces.
based on this request from an anon
title comes from mean! by madeline the person
part of the same mistakes-verse
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist
warnings: swearing, physical violence, same mistakes-verse canon bullying/hazing, this is so not how the Navy works, like i really made shit up this time, like seriously i know this isn’t how the Navy works, this got away from me, i feel like this needs to be said because people in my fics (like im not the one doing it) keep insinuating it but Rebel and Coyote are just platonic besties like Rooster and Phoenix k thx, one of the lines comes from the title, Cyclone’s a hardass but he looks out for his kids (but he’ll never admit it)
word count: 8,975
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“Lieutenant Machado, thanks for meeting us with us today.”
“Of course Admiral.”
“Your report was, quite frankly, concerning. In light of the active investigation we’re opening, we’d like to get more information from you.”
-
Your eyes adjust slowly to the light of the bar, taking in the patrons. The Hard Deck is unusually noisy and rowdy, all thanks to a certain squadron occupying the pool table. Your heart falters a bit as you take in Raven’s figure first. You pause next to Hangman, who’s settled up on the bar talking to Penny. Coyote’s behind you as the team swarms to Penny, not looking at or even paying attention to the same people the two of you are. 
"Well, they’re new.” Coyote states, crossing his arms. He’s right, there’s a petite red head girl standing next to a tall, lanky brunette man. 
“Must be our replacements.” You say, grabbing the beer from Rooster’s outstretched hand over Hangman’s shoulder. 
“Ain’t nobody replace us baby.” Coyote says with a teasing smile and you laugh. He grabs the beer Hangman’s handing him and takes a sip. A smirk appears. “We should go say hi.” You won't deny that the thought of going near them makes your heart crawl into your stomach, but you’ve got Coyote and Rooster won’t be too far away. Besides, you’re more than curious about your replacements and how long these two have been with the team. You find yourself nodding and you and Coyote leave the Iron Daggers behind, weaving through the patrons to appear next to the pool table. Owl glances up at the two of you first, a smile erupting on her face.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.” She sings, alerting Arrow and Moonshine. Moonshine nudges Ghost, who looks over. 
“Machado, my man!” He exclaims, moving towards the figure of your best friend, pulling him into a hug. You glance at your boyfriend, who’s watching the scene unfold with caution. “Rebel.” He grunts, moving back away from you. That catches Shadow and Raven’s attention and the dark looks on their faces makes your stomach curl. 
“What’re y’all doing out here?” You ask, crossing your arms, not giving them a chance to talk. Charm sighs from her place next to Redwood. 
“We’ve been grounded indefinitely. We’re not sure why.” She answers and you frown. Grounded indefinitely? 
“All of you?” You ask, curiosity raising in your voice. If something happens, there is always the possibility a few pilots would get grounded, but never the whole squadron, never brought all the way back out to Miramar. Coral’s nodding, her ever curly hair bouncing along with her. You glance at Coyote, who’s got the same confused look on his face. He shakes his confusion faster than you can and clears his throat. 
“Who’s the fresh meat?” Coyote asks, pointing to the two new figures. You turn back to Rooster’s gaze and you see the entirety of the Iron Daggers are watching this unfold and you subtly nod your head. Rooster understands the gesture and pulls the crew over to the pool table. You turn your attention back to the Green Vipers, listening to Shadow introduce Ruby and Swiper. Rooster settles in next to you, arm around your shoulder, causing Shadow to narrow his eyes. 
“You know man, the last time we were here, I didn’t catch your name.” he says, and Rooster glares. 
“Rooster. This here’s Phoenix, my wingman, and Bob, her WSO.” 
“Bob?” Raven’s cackling and your eyes roll so hard you think you might get a headache. “What kind of callsign is that?” 
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you considering the only reason your callsign is Raven is because your voice sounds like one.” You shoot back and she’s turning to you. 
“I see Rebel’s finally found a voice.” Ghost taunts and your eyes narrow but Coyote’s intervening before things can go any farther. 
“We definitely did introductions that last time y’all were here, this is unnecessary.” Coyote says, moving in front of you. You see Hangman glance at Rooster, the two exchanging a look you don’t understand. 
“Why don’t we play a game of pool?” Hangman’s offering. “2v2? Vipers versus Daggers.” Ghost chuckles and tosses Hangman the pool cue. 
“You’re on. Whose your partner?” 
“Rooster.” He answers like it’s the most obvious choice in the world, like these two didn’t used to spend everyday at the other’s throats. “Yours?”
“Shadow.” There’s bile rising in your throat as you realize your boyfriend is about to go head-to-head with your tormentor. The two squadrons spread out and you take a seat sandwiched between Phoenix and Bob. Payback and Fanboy are just behind you, watching the team carefully. And then the bell to the door of the Hard Deck is jingling again, and both squadrons turn to catch the entrance of a tall man with dark brown eyes and even darker hair to match. He seems to be looking for someone and he finds it at the pool table. Something changes on Coyote’s face and then the man is pulling him into a hug.
“Venom, man, how are you?” Oh, Coyote’s old wingman. Coyote turns to you, nodding you over with his head. “This is Rebel, my wingman.” Venom bypasses your outstretched hand to take in the rest of the team. “What’re you doing out here?” 
“Oh, you know, the Navy is still looking for a replacement for Admiral Kazansky. Or multiple, not sure anyone can replace that man.” You wince at the carless reminder that your godfather is gone. Coyote glances at you. 
“Oh yeah, I heard about your promotion to commander. Congrats man.” Venom nods absentmindedly.
“Yeah, well, we’re in the final rounds of interviews. The Navy really wants some Captain, callsign Maverick I think, but apparently he’s got a squadron of his own. The Iron Dangers or something.” A ripple of laughter goes through your squadron.
“Iron Daggers.” You correct and Venom looks back down at you. Coyote clears his throat. 
“That’s where I’m stationed right now.” Coyote clarifies. Venom looks back over to Coyote and then shrugs. 
“Well, tell Mitchell to give up Kazansky’s position. He’s like 60, he shouldn’t even be flying.” 
“Captain Mitchell could outfly you ten times over any day, I’m sure of it.” You respond, eyes narrowing. The two squadrons are watching this exchange intently and you’re just waiting for the opportunity to drop the bomb about who you really are. 
“Yeah, sure. God, I just wish he’d get out of the picture, let someone younger and better have all the glory. Not like Mitchell needs anymore anyways.” Your Dad didn’t fly for the glory and neither did Ice. 
“You don’t deserve Admiral Kazansky’s position.” You say cooly, and you can feel Rooster move just behind you, anticipating your next move. 
“God, who are you? Why do you keep talking?” Venom snaps, looking back to Coyote. 
“I’m Admiral Kazansky’s goddaughter.” Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Fanboy snickering into his hand as Venom’s face falls. “And Captain Mitchell is my father, so you be very careful about what you say next.” 
“You’re who?” Owl asks, eyes going wide. 
“Is that why Kazansky was there that day you and Coyote went down?” Moonshine’s asking and you’re nodding. 
“Uncle Ice wanted to make sure I was okay.” You slip the name in on purpose, and it had it’s intended effect. 
“Uncle Ice?” Raven practically screeches. 
“Nepotism at it’s finest.” Venom snarks, eyes narrowing. Ghost has a hand on the back of Venom’s uniform before he can do anything, pulling him back. 
“C’mon, Venom, we were just a about to play a game of pool against the Daggers here.” Venom nods dangerously, his eyes never leaving you. You move back to your seat next to Phoenix and Bob, watching the game unfold. The game is uneventful, each pair neck and neck until the Green Vipers start making digs at you and Coyote. 
“So, Coyote.” His head pops up from where’s he’s chatting with Owl in the direction of Arrow’s voice. “Why do you put up with Rebel really?” Raven’s laughing. 
“I’m telling you, they’re sleeping together.” Despite the fact that the thought of sleeping with Coyote is mildly disgusting, you find yourself rolling your eyes instead of gagging. Here we go. 
“We are not sleeping together.” Coyote says adamantly. Owl snorts and he looks at her. 
“I don’t buy that for a second Machado.” She says and he looks bewildered. 
“Why not?”
“Because your head is so far up her ass that I would hope you were getting some.” 
“My head is not-” 
“Yes it is.” Comes the unison voice of Coral, Moonshine, and Owl, the only girls left on the Green Vipers. Coyote elects to ignore it and move on. 
“Well, we’re not and we never have.” Coyote states, taking a sip of his beer, pointedly avoiding Rooster’s look. 
“So then why do you defend her like you do?” Coral’s asking. “I mean, you don’t have to look out for her anymore, no more obligation to have her back. She’s got a team that likes her. By all accounts, your friendship should’ve fell apart the day you left the Green Vipers.” 
“Because she’s my wingman and she’s never left my ass, even when she should.”
“So? Moonshine’s never left me but you don’t see me defending her the way you do Rebel.” Ghost proves and you’re itching to say something, but you hold back, knowing this is between Coyote and them. 
“What’s your point?” Coyote asks dryly. 
“That there’s something more between you.”
“She’s got a boyfriend.” Coyote states blankly, as if he’s lost interest in this conversation. At some point Hangman meanders over to you, leaning over to your shoulder. 
“Why are they worse then what you originally told us?” You shrugged, willing for the game to be over. It’s Hangman’s turn to shoot, and so he doesn't get a chance to pry more but Bob and Phoenix are giving you too many questioning looks so you stood up and move next to Coyote. He glances up at you, briefly nudging your hand, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by Revenge. Revenge rolls his eyes, leaning over to make a comment to Coral and Arrow, who are snickering at it. You ignore it, glancing down at Coyote. 
“That means nothing, you do know that right?” Raven’s taunting and you feel your blood began to boil. 
“Fuck you, I’d never cheat on my boyfriend.” She’s putting her hands up in the air, in mock surrender. 
“Never said you would. Doesn’t mean Machado’s not pining after a girl he can’t have.” Shadow picks up the taunting now, leaning on his pool cue.
“Hey, do the two of you still sing?” He asks smirking and Venom chokes on his beer. 
“Sing?” He asks incredulously. You snort, looking down at Coyote, knowing exactly what’s being discussed right now. Shadow’s nodding.
“Yeah, when the Terror Twins,” God, not that nickname. “here used to get people out during training they’d go-”
“Na na na, na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye.” You and Coyote finish, laughing lightly. Coyote’s favorite movie was Remember the Titans and after a late night watching the movie in the common area, it was something the two of you had picked up. Despite the light-heartedness of the statement, you’re still nervously watching Rooster out of the corner of your eye, who looks like he’s one more comment from smashing someone’s face in. Hangman seems to be aware of it too, never going far from his partner. 
“God, no wonder no one liked me.” You respond and Coyote’s snorting. The end of the game is nearing, all that’s left is for one team to pot the 8-ball. You wait with bated breath as Shadow leans over to take the shot, but he’s smirking. 
“You know, I should’ve shot her out of the sky when I had a chance.” He says, missing the chance to pot the 8-ball but it doesn’t matter because that’s the comment that causes Rooster to snap. He’s close to you, making it easy for you to pull him back as he tries to go launching after the pilot. Coyote’s grabbing his shoulders and Hangman’s there in an instant. A quick glance over to the bar tells you Penny and Mav are watching carefully as you push Rooster back. 
“That’s enough.” You say, moving in front of your boyfriend, coming face-to-face with Shadow. The man is tall, uses it to his advantage to intimidate you, and you will yourself not to shrink back. Coyote’s lingering just behind you. 
“Is it? Is it enough Rebel?” Shadow taunts and your shaking your head. “Man, I can’t believe Coyote puts up with you.”
"We’ve been through a lot together.” Coyote defends, his anger radiating off of him. Shadow raises an eyebrow.
“Is that so?” He chuckles darkly. “Well, here’s what I think. I think that the day the Navy rescued you from the ocean was a mistake. It was a waste of Navy resources. They should’ve rescued Coyote and left you to drown. You were never supposed to come home from that mission, but you just had to go and fuck it up, didn’t you?” Shadow’s dangerously close to your face now but you stand firm in the face of what’s being said. 
“That’s enough Shadow.” Ghost calls and Shadow pulls back, but the glint from his eye isn’t gone. 
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life searching for a validation and approval you’re never going to get. Because you’re a waste of space.” What happens next is a blur. 
You feel Coyote pushing you out of the way to get his hands on Shadow, and the pair are tumbling down as Coyote lands a sweet punch to the man’s face. You move forward to pull Coyote off but Hangman (you think, you’re not entirely sure) is pulling you backwards. You stumble, running face first into your Dad, who, after a quick once-over, is running into the pile to pull the two men off of each other. Shadow’s being pulled back by Ghost and Venom, Revenge moving in the middle. Hangman’s got a hold on Coyote, Fanboy keeping Rooster at bay, Payback standing between the two of them. There’s shouting, from Penny probably, and the Green Vipers take their leave. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you glance at Phoenix, who’s worry is evident as her and Bob take you in. You somehow end up outside, Coyote sitting on the bench, the rest of the group crowded around. You’re leaned up against the railing, eyes closed as you try to sort out your feelings. The front door opens and you briefly open your eyes to see your Dad exiting the Hard Deck to toss a bag of ice at Coyote. Your eyes close again as you try to bite down the nausea surfacing. The group is quiet, waiting for you to make the first move. Finally, you shift, opening your eyes to look at your best friend. There’s a sweet bruise forming around his eye, another on his jawbone, but nothing is broken or bleeding. 
“Coyote, what the hell were you thinking?” You ask lowly and he grimaces. “Tell me you weren’t thinking because you’ve never done that before.”
“I was thinking I wanted Shadow to shut the hell up and the only way to do that was to put my fist in his face.” You groan, not hearing you wanted. 
“Coyote, in the almost three years I’ve known you, that is by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Coyote sighs and leans back up against the bench. 
“I don’t regret it. I regret a lot of things but finally punching Shadow’s face is not one of them.” You really take in Coyote’s figure for the first time since the fight broke out. He’s slumped against the bench, defeated. “I was complicit in their abuse and I’m sorry.” 
“Coyote-” You protest but he shakes his head.
“(Y/N), I’ve done something that you’re going to find out about over the next few days. You’re going to be really angry at me and I’m sorry that this is how this is going to come out, but I need you to know that I don’t regret it.” 
“Coyote, what are you talking about?” You’re confused but there’s an element of fear appearing as well. Coyote’s never talked like this.
“What I’ve done is probably going to end our friendship.” There’s a weakening in your knees at the thought that there might be a day where you and Coyote aren’t friends anymore. “(Y/N), I need you to know that whatever happens over the next few days that I’m sorry, but I don’t regret what I did protecting you and making things right. Being friends with you has been some of the best years of my life and I’m sorry this is how it’s ending.” You think you might be sick as tears surface. The way Coyote’s is talking is scary and you look at Hangman, who is confused about the scene unfolding. You glance at Rooster, who looks equal parts baffled and concerned. Coyote glances at your Dad, handing him the ice. “Thanks for everything Mav.” He finished, standing up. He’s moving past the group, out to the parking lot and before you knew it, he’s driving away. 
“Dad?” You find yourself asking, fighting back the tears. Rooster’s hand finds yours. Your Dad sighs, looking away from you. 
“You’ll find out in your meeting with Admiral Simpson tomorrow.” You sigh as your Dad stands up, disappearing back into the bar. 
You feel Rooster tugging on your arm. “C’mon, let’s go home.” 
-
You knock on the door of Admiral Simspon’s office and then open it. Warlock is there too along with another Admiral. Cyclone clears his throat upon seeing you, beckoning you further into the room. “Lieutenant, please come in.” You shut the door behind you, walking to the desk cautiously. “Lieutenant, this is Admiral Oliver “Mercy” Davis.” The man puts out his hand and you shake it, forcing a smile. 
“Admiral, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
“You as well Lieuetnant.” The two of you sit and you face Cyclone.
“Admiral Simpson, uh, am I in trouble?” He shakes his head. 
“No, no, far from it. Admiral Davis here just has some questions for you about your previous assignment before the Iron Daggers.” It takes you a moment and then it clicks. 
“The Green Vipers?” Mercy is nodding.
“Yes, we’ve gotten reports of harassment so we’re just doing a routine investigation. We’ve been talking to previous pilots who’ve flown with them, people who were stationed at the base with them. Numerous people, including your wingman, have named you as a primary subject of the harassment so we’re just looking to get your side of the story and all of the information we can about this certain squadron.” You nod. “You’re not in any trouble of any kind and you won’t be in any trouble for speaking with us or for the things you share with us. The Navy can protect you from any kind of retaliation they may try to enact against you.” You glance at Cyclone. 
“There’s no chance any of this will get back to my Dad?” Cyclone shakes his head, despite Mercy’s eyebrow raise.
“No, what you say in here is confidential and won’t be repeated to Captain Mitchell.” A wave of relief washes over you knowing you won’t have to disclose these experiences to your Dad. 
“Oh, you're Maverick’s daughter?” Davis asks, chuckling. You nod. 
“I’ve flown with him a couple times. Good man.” 
“He’s the best.” You respond. 
“Well, let’s just get started, why don’t we? Let’s start with something easy. How long did you fly with the Green Vipers?” 
-
The words came tumbling out of you after that. Experiences you had shoved down came pouring out and poor Admiral Davis didn’t seem like he could keep up. Cyclone’s face went stony the longer the interview went on. Finally, after at least two hours, the interview began to wrap up. “Well, thank you for sharing your experiences with me Rebel, I do appreciate it.” Davis says and you nod. “Do you have any questions for me?” You nod again.
“What happens now?” He sighs, adjusting his glasses.
“Well, you’re the last person we had on our list to interview. The Green Vipers are grounded indefinitely. I have to report back to the investigation committee and we’ll discuss each pilot’s future individually, but there’s going to be a disbandment of this squadron. Some are facing dishonorable discharges.” Ghost, Shadow, Raven, certainly. Revenge and Arrow probably. Maybe Coral and Moonshine too. Hopefully not Owl. You nod, taking in this information. 
“Swiper and Ruby weren't there when I was. I don’t want their careers to be ruined over this.” You clarify and Davis smiles at you. 
“For a team that tried to break you, you only seem to be kinder.” He pauses. “No, Ruby and Swiper are grounded for the moment while we complete the investigation but they’ll be re-assigned.” 
“Can I ask who made the original report?” You asked, fearing the answer. You were certain you knew but you needed to hear it. 
“Your wingman, Lieutenant Machado. Said he was guilty for his part played in the harassment and wanted the Navy to be aware.” 
“Is he... is he facing grounding too?” Davis hesitates and glances at Simpson. He nods. 
“Because he didn’t come forward sooner and did play a complicit part in it, yes he is facing some form of repercussions. There was discussion of grounding him, yes.” You glance at Warlock panicked. 
“Don’t ground my wingman, please.” You say, the panic obvious. Cyclone raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t professional but I’m- he’s my best friend and I’ve never had a better wingman.” Davis nods. 
“The way the two of you fly together is what’s keeping Lieutenant Machado’s wings at the moment. Rebel, you have to understand that the Navy needs to take these kinds of reports and especially to this magnitude seriously and there needs to be repercussions for everyone involved.” 
“If Coyote were to get grounded, would... would I be reassigned?” You ask, voice low as you think about having to start over. 
“No, no, not at all. We’d find you a new wingman or assign you to Rooster or Hangman.” Cyclone assures, although it doesn’t make you feel better. “You’re too much of an asset to the Iron Daggers.” 
“What about Thompson?” 
“That’s a bit more difficult. He’s highly decorated but his disregard for the rules and wellbeing of some of his pilots raises a lot of alarm within the higher-ups in the Navy.” You nod. 
“How many pilots on my squadron know about this?” Warlock is the one to answer this time. 
“Rooster and Hangman have been informed because of the possible switch-up of wingman. They’re not aware of what’s happening, other than there’s an investigation involving you and Coyote about your previous assignment. They were informed this morning.” You take a deep breath, leaning back into your chair. 
“Sorry, this is just a lot.” You mumble. Davis shakes his head.
“No need to apologize. We’re more than grateful for your help. I just wanted to let you know that the Navy has resources for you to further discuss your experiences and what’s currently happening should you need to. Admiral Simpson can direct you to them should you need them. No shame in asking for help.” You nod, knowing you weren’t planning on taking a trip to the base therapist over this. Davis excuses himself and Warlock follows. Cyclone folds his hands on his desk as you look at him. 
“Rebel, I know this is hard on you.”
“Do you?” You ask, words said with an edge that probably shouldn’t be said to your CO but you find you don’t care. “The Iron Daggers, Coyote, they’re the first family I’ve had in a really long time. And now, it’s getting ripped out from under me, for people I’d rather never think about again. How am I going to explain any of this to my Dad?” Cyclone sighs. 
“The Navy failed to protect you (Y/N) and I’m sorry.” You look up at him, seeing the seriousness of his face. “I’m fighting for Coyote, believe me.” Cyclone looks at you for a while and then sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Sort of what you need to with your Dad and Lieutenant Machado.” You nod, find yourself numbly pulling yourself up from the chair to wander out of the office. You wander through base, starting to feel more than a little lost and dazed and you eventually find your way to the parking lot. Climbing in the car, you drive aimlessly before eventually pulling up in front of Rooster’s home. The Bronco is in the driveway, meaning he’s home and you climb out, opening the front door. 
“Darling?” He calls from the kitchen and you round the corner. He looked up at you from where he’s examining a pizza menu. “What’s- oof.” He says as you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He returns the hug, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Darling, you’re still dressed from base. Why don’t you get changed and I’ll order food and we can talk about your meeting?” It’s a great idea but the words are out of you before you can stop them.
“They’re talking about grounding Coyote.” He takes a step back, looking at you. 
“What? Why?” You shake your head. 
“Pizza first.” He huffs out a laugh, nodding. 
“Yeah, I’ll order it right now. Go get changed darling.” You make your way to the bedroom, pulling on some of the extra clothes you’ve left here over the course of the last six months and when you return, Rooster’s on the couch. He pulls you into his arms and you settle on his chest. His fingers are carding through your hair as your brain tries to wrap itself around everything that’s happened over the last 24 hours. The two of you sit there until the pizza arrives and you shift to a crosslegged position as Rooster sets it down in between the two of you. Rooster’s watching you carefully as you eat the food, thinking through what you want to say. 
You finally settle on, “I don’t want to lose Coyote.” 
“You won’t.”
“I’m so mad at him. Why, why did he stick his neck out for me like this? What the fuck was he thinking?” You take a deep breath, setting the slice you had been holding down in the box. “He’s so dumb. I’ve never held what happened against him. I know sticking up for me would’ve cost him, I knew the friendship was damage enough. It doesn’t even matter now so I don’t understand why he’s doing it. I’m gonna lose my wingman and there’s nothing I can do.”
“(Y/N), why didn’t you ever tell anyone about how bad they were? Tell me or Mav? The shit they said last night, that was just the tip of the iceberg wasn’t it?”
“Because. It’s humiliating and embarrassing and I’d rather not think of those two years ever again.”  You pause. “Did you know what he was doing?” He shrugs. 
“I... might’ve overheard him tell Mav he was going to file a report about your previous assignment.” You shoot Rooster a look, angry he hadn’t told you. “But I didn’t know why or what was gonna happen, I promise.” He rushes to defend, seeing you get tense. You groan.
“What do I do now?” 
“Talk to Coyote.” 
“No, I’m so fucking mad at him over this dumb, self-sacrificing, noble bullshit.” Rooster sighs. “God, and how many more things is my Dad gonna keep from me?” Rooster shifts, moving the pizza box to the floor and is then reaching for your legs, pulling you against him. 
“No matter what happens, he’s still your best friend.” 
“Well, obviously.”
“Does he know that?” You shrug.
“He should.” 
“Well, maybe you should start by reminding him.”
-
It’s been a few days since your meeting with Admiral Simpson and you haven’t spoken to Coyote since he put his fist in Shadow’s face. The group is at the Hard Deck, a game of pool happening as you sit quietly in the corner. You’re ignoring Coyote and he knows it and so does everyone else. You’re still not certain what’s happening with the Green Vipers or Coyote’s future. Hangman has temporally been re-assigned as your new wingman, Coyote taking his spot as Rooster’s. No one involved is happy about the switch and it’s ended in no less than three different arguments between the four of you. To which your Dad yelled at the four of you today, a conversation approximately no one enjoyed. You wanted to go home but Rooster had begged you to come with him and you really couldn’t ever say no to the brunette so here you were. Coyote’s looking at you and you’re avoiding his gaze, studying the records on the wall of the Hard Deck. 
“(Y/N).” He says firmly and you glance over at him. “We need to talk.” 
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” His face falls but he pushes on. 
“Where do we stand these days? Because not knowing is killing me.” You look at him, with a shrug. 
“I don’t know, I’m still really mad at you.” He sighs. 
“Look, if this is the end of our friendship, I’ll accept that, but at least just tell me.” You sigh, feeling frustration bubble up.
“No, Coyote-” You sigh again. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Look, (Y/N), I’m sorry that this came out, I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about it but-”
“Coyote, I could not give less of a shit about that.” He pauses, looking at you. 
“So... why are you mad then?”
“Why- why am I mad? Because you’re an idiot for putting your career on the line for something I don’t care about. I’ve never blamed you for standing by while we were there and instead of talking to me about it, you went and told the Navy. I might lose my wingman because you decided to pull some self-sacrificing noble bullshit. You’ve left me with fucking Hangman because of this.”
“Hey, I thought we were friends.” Hangman protests and you whip around to face him. 
“You’re on thin fucking ice Seresin, shut up.” He puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. 
“I want my wingman back. What the hell were you thinking?” Coyote looks baffled. 
“So... just to clarify, you’re not at mad me because everyone found out about what they did to you?”
“Jesus fuck- no. I mean yeah, I would’ve rather they never found out and not like this certainly, but I’m more mad that I might lose my wingman.” Coyote’s staring at you. “Nothing? You have nothing to say.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water with how wide his eyes are. You shake your head. 
“Fine, whatever.” You push past him, walking out of the front door of the Hard Deck. Your Dad’s following you, Rooster not far behind him. Your back is turned to your Dad as you look out of the ocean, trying to rub the tightness from your chest. 
“(Y/N)-” He starts and you turn. Rooster’s leaned up against the wall, trying to look as if he’s not there. 
“How many more secrets are you going to keep from me?” He sighs. 
“Like you don’t keep secrets from me?” 
“Oh, please, enlighten me, what have I kept from you?” 
“You almost dying? The way your last squadron treated you? You don’t think those were important things to share with your father?” 
“Could you have handled the truth?” He’s stunned for a moment. 
“Look, I had an obligation to Coyote as his instructor and superior officer to not say anything to you. And maybe if I had, we wouldn’t be here right now, but Coyote’s made his decisions. You need to respect that.” 
“You don’t think I had a right to know?”
“And what about my right to know my kid almost died? That she was being actively harassed for two years? What about that?” 
“Mav.” Rooster warns and your Dad seems to deflate. 
“You figure out what’s going on with you and Coyote because I need my best wingmen back.” 
“Well, he might not even be my wingman anymore because they’re talking about taking his wings.” Your Dad doesn’t respond, just watches you carefully.
“Lieutenant Machado needs you.” He finally says after a moment. “Look, Ice isn’t here anymore. We don’t have him to help us. And maybe he would’ve done something different, but this is what I did.”
“Dad-”
“Figure it out.”
-
You walk into the Hard Deck the next day. It was a long day of training, the bickering between everyone following you the whole day. The team is falling apart and you’re not even sure they know why. You haven't explicitly told the Iron Daggers what’s gone down, and you’re not sure who did (you suspect Rooster, you’re pretty sure there’s a group chat without you in it, dating back to the days of before the Iron Daggers were the Iron Daggers) but it’s tearing the team apart. But there’s no way to be certain and you’re not about to find out. You were the first out of the locker rooms today, ready to drink beer and eat pretzels and sit around for an answer to come. Coyote’s already there, nursing a beer at the counter. Jimmy’s chatting to him, clearly trying to cheer him up. With a sigh, you sit next to your (maybe not anymore?) wingman and he glances at you. Jimmy hands you a beer and then looks between the two of you.
“The two of you still not talking?” He asks and you glance at the older man as Coyote shakes his head.
“How’d you know that?” You ask, starting to pick at the label of your beer, a nervous habit you’d adopted at the Green Vipers. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Coyote’s hand twitch, like he’s itching to take your hand to stop it, something he’s always done. 
“Penny. Well, Mav told Penny. Penny told me.” 
“Of course he did, Dad can’t keep his mouth shut for shit.” You mutter and Coyote’s snorting because it’s not really all that true. Your Dad could get stabbed and he’d keep it to himself if he could, never trying to worry or burden anyone. You glance over at Coyote, really studying him for the first time in days. He looks tired. He looks up at you, meeting your eyes. He opens his mouth to says something when the door to the Hard Deck is being slammed open. You go cold when Shadow comes barreling through the door, Raven and Ghost not far behind him. The rest of the Green Vipers are following, Venom, Ruby, and Swiper bringing up the rear, looking more than slightly confused. 
“You bitch!″ He yells and you fall off of your chair in fear, stumbling back into Coyote’s chest. His hand reaches out to the small of your back, gently keeping you upright. “You bitch, you got me dishonorably discharged!” Before you know it, Shadow’s got a fist full of your jacket and he’s bringing you close to his face. 
“The hell’s your problem? Hate us so much you had to report us to the Navy for harassment?” Ghost fires and you’re mildly panicking. 
“Let her go Shadow.” Coyote says calmly. 
“And why the hell should I do that?” Shadow snaps, fire lighting his face. “Give me one good reason.”
“Because she’s not the one who asked the Navy to do an investigation.”
“Then who the hell did?!” Raven shouts and Shadow’s grip on your shirt is getting tighter and tighter by the second. You’re afraid that at any moment his hand is going to go from your clothes to your throat.
“I did.” Shadow’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t let go of you. 
“And why the fuck would you do that Machado?”
“Because she’s my best friend and I needed ensure no one would hurt her that way again.” Shadow’s looks is venomous as his look goes from you to Coyote. 
“You two, you deserve each other, honestly.” Owl states and you look at her. 
“You know,” You start, finally deciding you’d had enough of them. You were done being scared. What more could they do? “One thing I like about me is that I’m nothing like you and I never will be. You can’t hurt me anymore. You tried to break me and you failed.” You didn’t think anyone’s eyes could go any darker with rage but Shadow’s do as his second hand comes up to the other side of your shirt. You’re really afraid now as Coyote stands up abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. 
“Lieutenant Robinson, I suggest you let go of my pilot before I have you arrested.” Comes Cyclone’s firm voice. You’re not certain he’s going to let go, too far into his rage to think clearly, but it resonates somewhere in Shadow’s brain and his hands slowly slip from your clothes. In an instant, Coyote’s pushed you behind him, effectively cutting Shadow off from getting to you again without having to go through Coyote. “Get out of this establishment, all of you, or I’ll have the police called.” Shadow doesn’t make to move but Shost pulls him back. After a few moments, they’re gone, save for Venom. Your heart is racing with what just happened and the realization of what all of it meant. Cyclone being here, Coyote’s early arrival, Shadow being dishonorably discharged... it all meant one thing. 
They had taken Coyote’s wings. 
The thought alone is enough to make you want to vomit as you move away from Coyote, who's trying to ask you if you’re okay. Distantly, you hear Venom angrily start an argument with him. You slip out of the back door of the Hard Deck, feeling the emotion crash over you like waves crashing onto the shore not so far away. Before you know it, you’re vomiting up into the trashcan sitting on the back deck, just out of Coyote’s line of sight. You don’t stop until you’ve dry heaved everything out of your stomach and are borderline sobbing into the trashcan. 
You had just lost your wingman.
-
You walk through the doors of the hangar classroom, feeling like shit. Apparently, you look like shit as well as Fanboy lets out a low whistle. “Damn, who pissed in your morning coffee?” Payback asks but you ignore him. 
“Seresin, have you heard from Coyote?” He looks up at you from where he’s talking to Rooster and Bob, taking you in. He shakes his head slowly. 
“Not since we left here yesterday, why?” 
“They grounded him.” Hangman’s face falls and Rooster’s next to you in a second. You don’t tell them about what went down at the Hard Deck the night before, a conversation for a later date. 
“Rebel, I’m so-” Phoenix’s voice is soft, coming from just over your shoulder, but you turn, shaking your head. You push past them, taking your usual seat. Usually, Coyote would be next to you. Guess that’ll never happen again. 
It’s not too much longer then before Cyclone and Warlock walk in to the classroom, but you feel like your ears are filled with water as you look at the empty seat next to you. It’s something so mundane, a piece of furniture, but his absence left a huge hole in the team. You weren’t sure where your friendship stood these days with him, leaving an even larger hole in your heart. Cyclone’s halfway through the training debrief for the day (one you’re not actually listening to) when the phone on the desk rings. Everyone looks at it confused, the thing never actually having rung before. Cyclone moves to answer it as everyone looks on with curious fascination. 
“Admiral Simpson. Yes, uh huh. Well, Captain Mitchell and I would be happy discuss that with you. Yes, we’ll see you in a few moments.” Cyclone hangs up and looks back at everyone. “You’re all dismissed to go get changed. You’ll meet us out of the tarmac. Captain Mitchell will finish giving you instructions then.” He turns to Maverick, already moving towards the door. “Maverick, will you follow Warlock and I please?” He’s nodding, moving to follow the pair out of the doors, but then Hangman’s talking.
“Uh, Admiral Simpson?” He asks and you look over at him. Cyclone turns. 
“Yes, Lieutenant Seresin?” Hangman makes eye contact with you and you shake your head. You know what he’s going to ask and it’s not worth it. You’re not sure you can withstand hearing the words come out of Cyclone’s mouth. 
“Uh, never mind.” Cyclone nods and the three resume their walk out of the classroom. You stand up and follow the team to the locker room. The walk is quiet and when you go to split off, Rooster’s arm is reaching out for you. You brush him off, heading towards your side. The mood is solemn as you change into your flight suits. At one point, you groan, your head making an awful thud as it makes contact with the front of your locker where you had face planted. Halo’s closer and she chuckles, reaching out to pull you back. 
“Don’t worry Rebel, I’d feel the same way if I was stuck with Bagman.” She jokes and you force a smile. There’s knocking on the door of the locker room. 
“Hey, everyone decent?” Fanboy asks. 
“Yeah, we’re all good.” Phoenix calls and the doors open to reveal a swaying Fanboy, who’s still got a hand covering his eyes. Phoenix snorts. “Seriously Fanboy.” He peeks out from behind his hand, a light blush covering his cheeks. 
“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt it’s just-” He pauses, looking over to you.
“Just what? Spit it out Fanboy.” Halo urges, moving up off the bench. 
“It’s Coyote.” The alarm bells in your brain start ringing as you push past Fanboy, through the group of men crowded around your side of the locker room, trying to keep your feet from running to the airfield. Hangman and Rooster are close behind you as your pace never falters. Out on the airfield, there he is, with Cyclone and Warlock and Admiral Davis. They’re chatting with your Dad as Omaha and Fritz look on. Coyote catches your gaze and he gives you a half-smile. 
“What do you think’s happening?” Yale whispers and you look over at him. 
“I don’t know, but that’s the admiral who interviewed me as part of the investigation.” Hangman glances at you. 
“Well shit.” Hangman responds. You can feel Rooster’s eyes on you, urging you to not go over there but it’s too late. You’re striding over to the group of men with whispered protests from Bob and Phoenix as you hear Hangman’s “Damn Bradshaw, your girlfriend’s got balls.” You appear just next to your Dad, smiling brightly at Admiral Davis. 
“Admiral Davis sir, it’s good to see you.” He returns the smile. 
“Mav, I gotta tell you, your daughter- she’s something.” Your Dad smiles, resting a hand on your shoulder. 
“Thank you Mercy, I’m proud of her everyday.” 
“As you should be.” Cyclone states and your cheeks go warm from the praise. Coyote’s nudging your hand, trying to hold back a laugh. 
“Well, Cyclone do you mind if I stick around? I’d really like to see these two fly together.” Davis says, gesturing to you and Coyote. A flare of hope alights in your heart as you look at Coyote. 
“Of course Admiral Davis. Coyote, why don’t you get suited up while Mav instructs the groups?” Coyote’s nodding as the group breaks apart. 
“Alright, all of you, listen up. We’re changing things up a bit today...” Your Dad’s voice fades off as you follow Coyote to the locker room, even though you’re probably not supposed to. They let you go and you’re grateful. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Coyote asks after a beat of silence. “Last night was scary.” You nod. 
“Yeah, I was fine. You were there.” He huffs out half a laugh. “Coyote, why- why wouldn’t you just talk to me? I’m not worth you risking your career over.” He falls silent, mulling over this words. He shrugs. 
“I’ve carried that guilt for a long time. And you’re happy here and I wanted to make sure the Navy would never take that from you again, even if it cost us our friendship.”
“And your career?”
“You matter more than my career.” You’re at the door of the locker room and you turn to face him. 
“Coyote-”
“Look, you’re my best friend. You know things about me only a handful of people in this world do. I’d give my life for you and I’d do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe. And what happened at the Green Vipers was a wrong I needed to fix. I don’t give a shit about my career if you’re not the one flying up there with me.” You open your mouth to respond but Coyote’s cutting you off again. “You and I both know that wingmen have an unbeatable bond and we’re one of the lucky few that get to keep flying together. That work as seamlessly on the ground as they do off of it. I know your Dad had that bond with Ice, know he was that close with Goose. You’re my best friend and you weren’t happy there and you’ll never say it outloud but you and I both know you were questioning your place in the Navy because of them.” Coyote’s rushing the words out now, like if he stops, he’ll never start again. “I couldn’t watch you hurt anymore, wait for the opportunity for you to get hurt like that again. And if that meant that if my career went down with theirs, so be it. You have a really good thing going right now, with the team, with Rooster, with your Dad, I couldn’t- couldn’t let you fucking throw it away.” You’re stunned, reeling as you take his words in.
“How close were they to taking your wings?” You whisper. 
“Pretty damn close.” He breathes out, tears surfacing in his eyes.
“Why didn’t they?”
“Because of you.” 
“The hell I’d do?” Coyote gives a watery laugh. 
“Fly with me.” 
“I only want to be here if you and I still get to fly together. You know that, don’t you? You know Hangman and I would get each other killed.” Coyote shakes his head, giving you a look like he wants to hug you but restrains himself. 
“Mav and Cyclone were instrumental in keeping me here, and we didn’t know for sure until this morning whether I’d keep my wings, but I was told explicitly the only reason the Navy didn’t make an example of me was because of how we fly together. How we’re too much on asset to this team and the Navy to split up.” 
“Jesus, Coyote.” You say, because you don’t know what else to say. He presses the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to keep in the tears and you take that as the perfect opportunity to barrel into your best friend’s chest, pulling him into a tight hug. He doesn’t say anything, just returns it. After a few moments, he pulls away. 
“I gotta go get changed.” You nod, but don’t move away. He gives a silent laugh, understanding that you’re not leaving. When he returns a few moments later, the two of you head back to the airfield, a comfortable chatter emerging. You pause in front of those left (Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, and Payback) and Hangman smirks. 
“I still think you hooked up.” He says and Rooster’s promptly shoving Hangman over as you laugh. 
“You know Bagman, unlike you, I don’t need sleep with everything that moves.” Fanboys snorts as Hangman glares you. “Sorry, but your reputation as a man whore precedes you.” Hangman’s flipping you off as Hondo approaches, warning the six of you that you’ll need to get in the air soon or Maverick will have everyone’s head. You all break off for your planes and soon you’re back in the air, with Coyote on your side, things better than they have been in weeks. 
“Hey Rebel, what do you say we put a little friendly wager on this?” Coyote calls. The six of you have been broken off into pairs. You and Coyote, Rooster and Hangman, and then the other four. The goal is to get as many other people out as possible without leaving your wingman. 
“What do you got in mind Machado?” You call back. 
“If I get more kills, you and Hangman have to go on a friend date.” Rooster’s laughing through the comms as you shoot a dangerous look at your best friend through the canopy. 
“Fine, but if I get more kills, you have to go on a friend date with Rooster.” It wasn’t that Rooster and Coyote didn’t get along, but despite the fact that they were two of the most important people in your life, Coyote’s alliance to Hangman made it difficult for them to co-exist. Rooster’s laughter ceases as Payback erupts into laughter from his plane. 
“Oh, now we’re talking.” He calls.
“You’re on Rebel.” Coyote shoots back, and then you’re breaking apart. You successfully get Phoenix and Bob out, with Coyote getting Hangman out. Another successful kill from Coyote takes out Fanboy and Payback, leaving Rooster pretty much defenseless. The two of you are doing some of the best flying you’ve ever done together. “Rooster, c’mon man, give it up, you’re not gonna win.” Coyote calls over the comms. “Give me another kill so Seresin and Mitchell here have to go hang out.”
“Over my dead body.” Rooster shoots back. Coyote’s still far away enough that he doesn't see Rooster, but you almost have a lock on him, unbeknownst to either party. 
“Hey Coyote, what was that Marvin Gaye song from the 60′s? Something about a mountain?” Coyote chuckles. “It goes something like ‘Cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough, to keep me from getting to you.” Coyote starts singing along with you and then the dial tone’s sounding.
“Shit. Mav, that has to be cheating.”
“Cheating? For what?” You ask incredulously. 
“Sorry Rooster, no rules about singing.” Mav’s voice comes from the comms, laughter hidden behind his words. He’s only up there to make sure no one goes down, so you know he’s enjoying himself. 
“Hey Rooster.” Coyote calls. 
“What?” The man asks, clearly disgruntled. 
“Na na na, na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye.” The two of you sing. 
“Fuck you!” Rooster calls as the two of you start laughing. 
“Sorry babe, can’t help that I’m such a distraction.” You call. He grumbles as the seven of you make your way down to the ground. You climb out of your plane, laughing with them as you join the other pilots who are gathered on the ground. 
“Wait, does this mean I still have to hang out with Bagman?” You ask and Phoenix is roaring in laughter as you panic.
“Technically, no one won.” Your Dad says, a shit-eating grin on his face. 
“But no one lost either.” You defend hastily. 
“I mean, I’m still game if you are.” Coyote says as Rooster groans. You glance at Hangman. 
“Fine, Coyote, I’ll hang out with Bagman, if you hang out with Rooster.”
“This seems more like punishment for Rooster than Coyote.” Omaha says with a laugh. You smile at Rooster, who despite everything, returns it. 
“Yeah, but he’ll do it for me because he loves me.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek. 
“I’m not doing it because I love you.” Hangman states, looking disgruntled as he glances at Coyote. You snort.
“I don’t knowwww, the two of you looked pretty loved up to me that morning you guys were cuddling in guest room.” You sing as Hangman goes pale. 
“Hey! You swore never to bring that up!” Coyote practically yells as you snicker with Fanboy and Payback. Halo looks at you in confusion. 
“Pics or it didn’t happen.” She says firmly and you tilt your head. 
“Oh, I’ve got plenty on my phone in the locker room.” And the team is scrambling up, dying to see them. Distantly, there's a shout from Fritz about why you didn’t send it to the group chat. Coyote’s eyes narrow.
“You better run Mitchell.” You shove your helmet into Rooster’s chest as you take off, hearing his oof as Coyote’s footsteps follow you. He’s faster, always has been, and soon he’s got you in his arms. He doesn’t tackle you, thankfully, as the thought of being tackled into the hot tarmac asphalt sounds less than pleasant. “Take it back! I’m not in love with Hangman!” He yells, humor coloring his tone.
“Never!” You shout back, but the two of you are laughing and if it wasn't for Coyote’s grasp keeping you close to his chest, you’d fallen over. “Good to have you back Lieutenant.” You whisper and he smiles at you.
“Good to be back. We still best friends?”
“Ain’t no way in hell you’re ever getting rid of me Machado.” 
463 notes · View notes
romanarose · 30 days
Note
Congrats again bb, and no pressure for this one if you’re overwhelmed but I think it’d be cute if we could pls see a scene (LaL) where one of them has like pre wedding jitters or something and how they deal with it
HI BABBYYYYYYYY
Jitters
Leather and Lace
Takes place after Take Your Time but before For the Longest Time. Before Laci and Santi go through their rough patch (which don't worry to anyone who read lal but not the others, they are totally okay.) Laci and Santi are engaged.
Warnings: Insecurity, references to Laci'spast sexual trauma, addiction, domestic violence, bad life before Santi. mentions of miscarriage and potential fertility troubles,
****************
Santi could always tell when Laci needed him. Always. Whether in person, away from each other, it didn't matter. Laci liked to say that's why he took the mission that lead him to her in the first place, he knew she needed him. Santi didn't believe in all that, but he did like that he had this intuition. Even when it woke him up.
"Ah!" Santi startles awake, eyes wide to find his pretty fiance staring at him. Lacina was propped up with her head on on her arm, just watching him, he Ghost Face night light illuminating her. "Jesus Lace, you scared me."
"Oh, so my face is scary, is it?" Laci teased with a smile.
"Nope, prettiest thing I've seen in my life" Santi pouted his lips.
Laci got the hint, leaning in to press a kiss to him.
"You aright, munaquita?"
She binked. "You really wanna marry me?"
Santi scoffed for a moment turning away to laugh, then he looked back. She was serious. "Laci, how can you ask that? We got engaged 2 weeks ago!" He pulled her onto his body. Laci was wearing shorts and a tank top with Santi's long sleeve from back in the jungle. Laci rested her head on her arms that she crossed ovr his chest. Santi liked when she laid on him, her body weight was a perfect comfort.
"No one's ever wanted to marry me before."
"That's because everyone stupid."
"What if I get bad again and we can't have sex"
"Lace, we've both made each other cum untouched."
"What if I can't have kids."
Santi's eyes widened at that. Not because having kids mattered more than her, but that she would suggest that. "Baby-"
"I might not! I miss carried when I was in-"
"Because they were starving and hurting you!"
"Well I lost my period for a year! Maybe I lost my chances!"
Santi pecked her cute little nose. "Doesn't matter. I drank so much back in the day, maybe I fucked shit up too."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Don't matter. if we," Santi was sure to say we. He didn't want to place all the responsibility on her. "can't have kids, I still got you and that's what matters."
Laci's face scrunched up, thinking of all the reasons he may break up with her. "What if my body looks really weird after a baby"
"Then I'll love your weird body just as much as I love your body now." Which is a lot. He squeezed her ass for good measure.
"What if I go vegan"
"I'll eat meat at Frankie's house."
"What if I decide to get like, really into horoscopes. Like, a lot."
"I'll find my birth certificate and get you the exact time and place I was born."
"What if I wanna name our baby something really bad like... McBreighleigh"
Santi laughed, but answered. "Then in a few years you'll hear me yelling "Brin! It's time for pre-school"
"What if Yovanna comes back."
Oh.
Santi frowned. "Wha- Lace..." He tucked a lock of her fine hair behind her large ears. Where's that coming from?
She shrugged, looking away. "I dunno..."
"Laci..." Santi gently guided her face to him. "C'mon."
Laci sighed, but looked back at him. "Ben told me you talked to her the week you found me... Why didn't you tell me that..."
Ah. "Sweetheart... I didn't mean to keep it a secret... but we don't... we don't talk about our dating past..." They didn't. They each new the basics. Santi knew that every man she dated used her for money or sex or something to take their anger out on. She didn't like talk about her long history of addiction, sexual trauma and abuse with him. She had her therapist, and Santi was there any time she needed. He knew some stories, he knew the worst of things of course. He wanted to know so he could learn how to not trigger her. He didn't know her full history. If he wanted to, she could tell him. It didn't seem like she wanted too.
Likewise with Santi, Laci knew the basics. She knew she was the first serious girlfriend he'd ever had. He'd dated, even lived with women before, but it was all pretty casual. Yovanna was the first time things had gone deeper. Santi admitted yeah, he had loved her, but she wasn't Laci. After Colombia, Santi had visited her and her brother in Austrelia, a solice for a few weeks after the horrors... but Santi needed to be near his friends. Benny's drinking and fighting was becoming unmanageable for Will alone, and Jana had broken up with Frankie, leaving him a coparent, but with a raging coke addiction. Santi had to be there for him and for his daughter. The last time Yovanna and him had talked was a few days before he found Laci. She didn't want much contact, still fearing Lorea's men and all the drug lords whose money they burned.
"She was just checking in, Lace. She doesn't want me. I don't want her."
She was silent for a moment. "I don't get it."
"Get what?"
Laci sat up straddling his chest. She squished his cheeks. "How anyone could not want you." She was smiling now, and Santi was smiling back, squeezing her thighs.
"Miss Lacina, it doesn't matter if she did want me, I got you, mi chica perfecta, ella sol de mi dias, mi todos. I don't want anything else."
"Even a woman who looks like a super model with normal sized ears and doesn't drown in a 5" pool?"
"PPPSSSHHH" Santi scoffs. "Being tall is overrated. I got the prettiest girl in the world right here."
Laci grinned at that, hopping off him and scrambled back into bed. Getting under the covers, Laci nudges him onto his side and wraps and arm around him. becoming Santi's big spoon (or his lil backpack, as Santi called it.)
"You okay now, munequita?"
He felt her nod against his neck, then give him a kiss. "yeah. Can you just like, remind me you still love me and didn't secretly get tired of me every now and then?"
"Yeah, Miss Lacina." Santiago interlaced his fingers with hers. "I'll remind you every day."
*******************
Thank you guys!!!!
This is for my 2000 followers celebration, but ima tag a few people fron the original LaL days, some of you have been here with me since before 500 followers, a year and a half ago!
For those who didn't keep up with the other series, Laci and Laci are married now, and Laci is preggo with their son <3
@pimosworld @miraclesabound @poeedameronn @itspdameronthings @bensolosbluesaber @whatthefishh @kirstydreaming @missdictatorme
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