#to the drivers seat and try to stop the car from hitting like a wall or smthng

[honourdoesart]

Actions have consequences (Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN Civilian! Spouse! Reader) Part 1

Summary: In a heated argument between the two of you, Simon says something he will regret for the rest of his life.

CW: Simon being an asshole, Swearing, yelling, emotional hurt, heavy angst, car accident, descriptive writing of injury, Character death (?)

Simon truly wanted to be a good husband.

But nothing ever seemed to go smoothly in his life. From his fucked-up childhood, his own demons, to his role as the infamous Ghost. Everything had to eventually come to bite him in the ass.

You, his loving spouse, had always tried to ease his pain in any way that you could. It would vary from cuddling on the couch, to taking him somewhere to lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by. However, he'd been away longer. The world beyond the walls of his cozy home made him more bitter, jaded, and cruel when he returned home.

It was today that he finally snapped.

It was a small disagreement at first, something that had already felt foreign to you. Then it escalated. The both of you kept just kept going back and forth, spitting venom at each other from a supply with an unknown source.

"All I have been trying to do this whole time is make sure that you don't have to deal with the pain alone. I'm only trying to fucking help, Simon!" You yell with hot tears streaming down your face, the grip on your shirt so tight it makes your knuckles turn white.

"Marrying you was a mistake." He snarls. The way your face twists into an expression of pure horror at his words makes him want to take it all back. A choked sob leaves your trembling body as you bolt into the direction of the door. You ignore the frantic calls of your husband as you snatch your jacket and the car keys in one swift motion, not even bothering to look back as you slam the door in his face.

You make your way to the red sports car, unlocking the vehicle before plopping yourself down in the driver's seat. There was no going back now. You start the car, glancing to the side at your shared home with Simon one last time before you hit the gas.

"Fuck…" You whimper while running a hand over your tear-stained face. Simon's words echo through your mind over and over again, the feeling of knives stabbing into your heart becoming more and more evident with each and every loop.

'Marrying you was a mistake.'

Your eyes dart to the side as you catch a flash of bright lights, the booming horn of a truck being the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

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

Simon sat on the couch, fingers dinging into his hair, as the tears finally stopped. It had been an hour since you stormed out the door, the look of pure horror on your face branded into his mind like the scars that decorated his body. How could he have said that to you? You, the love of his life, were the only person who had let him feel human in the times he needed it most.

"I'm such a fucking idiot." He scolded himself while smacking the sides of his head. The sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table was the only thing that brought him out of his self-pity. He reached out to the obnoxious device that tried to get his attention, turning it around to find the word 'unknown' flashing readily on the screen.

Alarm bells began to go off in his brain as he pressed down to answer the call. A sweet elderly voice was greeting him from the other side. "Hello? Is this Mr. Riley? I am calling from the Clementine Churchill Hospital." The moment the word 'hospital' registered in Simon's brain, he immediately froze.

"Sir?" The voice on the other side called again, to which this time he did respond. "Yes, you are speaking to him. Why did you call me?" Deep down, he already knew why. "Your spouse has been in a car accident. Do you have the possibility to come over?"

Simon's heart stopped beating.

The time between him rushing to the hospital and finally reaching your room was all but a blur to him. He now sat at your bedside, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the damage he had caused. You looked so frail, all wrapped up in bandages, with all different types of tubes and machinery hooked up to you.

There was only one thought that crossed Simon's mind at this very moment. It was all his fault.

If he hadn't yelled at you, if he hadn't let you walk out of that door, you would've been cuddled up on the couch together. You would be smiling at him, those beautiful eyes he came to love looking up at him with pure joy when you told him about your day. But you weren't. You were lying here, fighting for your life. All because of him.

"Sweetheart? I don't know if you can hear me… but I-" Simon had to swallow as he felt his world crumble around him. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've never allowed myself to say something so fucking horrible to you." Hot tears streamed down his face as he reached out to caress your cheek. "Please… please don't go. I can't-I can't lose anyone else." Simon wept as he held onto your hand, his lips brushing against your bandaged knuckles.

"Please…" He kept begging. He was hoping that someone, anyone, would hear his plea not to take you away from him.

[greg-montgomery]

Texting bf's dad hotch by accident when you're drunk and trying to get your bf to pick you up...

this idea >>>>

also aaron has another son besides jack in this

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

They were just a few margaritas. You didn’t expect a casual girl’s night to turn into a pounding headache and a room that was spinning around you.

It was fun and your friends wanted to stay longer, but your upset stomach would not let you enjoy the rest of your night. You were more than ready to get out of there.

“I’m gonna ask my boyfriend to come pick me up,” you told your friends, who seemed a bit too drunk to process your words.

As carefully as you could, you made your way outside the bar, and took your phone out of your purse. Going through your contacts you stopped when you spotted your boyfriend’s name.

‘Babe can you come and pick me up? I can’t drive’

You hit send, and right after, you shared your location with him.

‘I’ll be there in 20.’

Oh.

That was it? No whining? No scolding you for drinking too much? No complaining about you being an inconvenience?

It was a full moon; maybe he was going through some kind of transformation.

You closed your eyes for a bit and rested your head against the wall. The minutes would simply not pass fast enough. I’m never drinking again, you thought.

Your phone buzzed in your hands and a new message flashed across the screen.

‘I’m here.’

You were ready to lift your head and search for his car, but your eyes were glued on the contact name that appeared above the text you had just received.

It didn’t say Mark. It said Mark’s dad.

No way, you thought. No way, I asked Aaron Hotchner to come pick me up from a bar because I’m wasted.

But that was exactly what you had done.

The word embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover the range of emotions you were feeling at that moment; especially as you watched him get out of his car and walking towards you.

Why did he have to look so good? As if drunk texting him wasn’t embarrassing enough, he had to look like a god in a suit that cost more than your monthly rent.

‘Mr. Hotchner,” you said, when he approached you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to text you. I wanted to text Mark, but I got confused and God…I’m so, so dizzy.”

 His expression stayed serious, but he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get in the car.”

Aaron opened the door for you and held your hand so you could get inside. You expected him to close the door but instead he leaned over you and fastened your seatbelt for you.

Your heart started jumping around at the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his face so close to yours. You weren’t proud of it, but Aaron Hotchner was your forbidden desire. And the star of more dirty dreams than you’d ever dare to admit.

His thick fingers brushed against your stomach as he made sure that your seatbelt was tight enough to keep you safe.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm your body down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, softly.

His deep voice was the cherry on top that had you melting on your seat.

“Yeah,” you answered weakly. “Just dizzy.”

He closed the door and made his way to the other side, and soon he was on the driver’s seat.

There was a small water bottle in the cup holder and he picked it up. “Here,” he offered, “Have some water. It’ll help.”

“Thank you,” you said taking it from his hands, and shivered at the contact when your fingers brushed.

The bottle was half empty which meant he already had some of it before you. He had wrapped his lips around it; around where your lips were now.

You devoured any water that was left and realized how bad you needed to get hydrated. “I needed that.”

“I can tell,” he laughed. “Come on,” he added, and started the car. “Let’s take you home.”

“Were you asleep?”

“Hm?””

“When I texted you. Did I wake you up?” you asked with a worried tone.

“I rarely sleep, honey. You don’t have to worry about me.”

You pressed your thighs together at the sound of the pet name and the sight of his hands around the wheel.

“Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said. “You needed me.”

“I did,” you said, breathless. “Mark would…”

You paused.

“Go on.”

You hesitated. “He would have probably told me to call a cab.”

“He’d let his girl get in the car with a stranger in the middle of the night? When she’s drunk?”

“Sometimes he gets upset with things like that. And, listen, I get it. I can be trouble sometimes.”

“Oh you can be,” Aaron said. “But not for the reasons you think.”

“What do you mean?”

He ignored your question, but it didn’t take too long before he spoke again.

“I’m gonna have a word with him. He’s not treating you well.”

“No, please don’t.”

The only thing that talk would achieve would be Mark getting upset with you.

There was a long pause, and you took advantage of the silence to stare at him. His side profile, his hands, his arms. He was perfect.

‘I wish Mark was more like you,” you said before thinking any better.

“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I could say way worse.”

He chuckled. “Unless you want both of us to get in trouble, don’t.”

“But-”

Aaron reached out to hold your hand, making you go quiet. “You’re drunk. But what I do want you to know is that I’m always here, okay?”

“Okay.”

He squeezed your hand and didn’t let go the entire ride home.

part 2

[kissitbttr]

mafia!toji first time meeting stripper!reader

a/n: reader is fem. and since i’ve been hit with biggest writers block known to a man, this one is inspired by one of my old work called gold. enjoy!

-

toji zenin is a ruthless man. that, you can definitely count on.

he’s known to be the one who shows little to no mercy. who’s soul isn’t as clean due to the countless of lives he had taken.

as crazy as it sounds, toji craves for the sound of piercing cries from someone who begs to spare them compassion. he likes to taunt them. mock them. pretending that he would eventually let them go just to see that little flicker of hope lighting upon their gaze.

a sinister smile would play coyly upon his lips before he decides the latter. pulling the trigger and watches the victim face planting the dark tile as their brains scatter all over the walls and floor.

it’s one way to teach people a lesson to not fuck with him. to not fuck with his business. because toji zenin is crazy like that.

he has no time for patience nor pity.

toji fixes the collar of his black sheer shirt, checking himself out in the mirror to make sure he looks good tonight. who are we kidding though? he’s toji fucking zenin,

tonight was supposed to be his day off. he had plans. before a motherfucker who runs a strip club decides to mess with him about the package deal and had almost lost him half of the money he’s supposed to own,

he could’ve let his right hand man to handle it. but this is bigger than anything he had ever done. is this goes to south, then one person’s death wouldn’t be the only thing on his agenda,

he’ll track down every single one of the bastards and kill them with his own hands,

however, tonight needs to be as clean as possible.he’s aware of the reputation he has put on himself to the world, so no point of hiding or camouflage. yet, he still doesn’t want to cause too much of a scene,

stepping away from the full length mirror, he swiftly picks his black velvet coat off the hanger before shrugging it on,

“talk to me, satoru” his heavy voice echoes the hallway as he steps out of the room to walk downstairs, watching a few of his men pocketing their weapons,

gojo satoru. his right hand man, nods,

“he’s there. word from bianco. he appears isn’t expecting you to stop by” he informs, showing toji the message on his phone. “it’s going to be crowded. but bianco is taking care of that right now. he’s got nowhere to run”

toji scoffs, snatching a glass of whiskey off the table before downing the remaining drink. “good. i need him to see me when he less expects it. owes me more than some fucking money” he mutters, tucking the G21 down his holster.

gojo raises an eyebrow. “G21? you’re going soft tonight eh, boss?”

toji shoots him a hard glare, one where the white haired man only chuckle at. “the car’s ready?”

another nod, gojo leads toji down towards the basement. “as requested. Lamborghini Murcielago. your personal favorite. packed with 640 PS and 471 Kw—i think you know what that means— rules around 213 mph if you consider on going hit and run. i packed a standard aeropack wing if you wanna go slow. windows? bulletproof. in case anyone tries to kill you” toji knows for a fact that gojo is only joking about the last part.

no one dares to try to take him down before he does it. it’s a pattern everyone knows by now,

toji lets out a low whistle, head softly shaking at the machine beauty before him. fingers tracing along the hood of the car,

“shit—you know i need to lay low, man? got anything less attractive?”

“i don’t do less. you know that, boss” he winks playfully, laughing to himself when he watches toji rolls his eyes. “besides. this thing right here will for sure earns you a bird. take her out on a stroll, bring her home. women love fast cars” he comments,

humming as a response, toji walks towards the driver’s seat. “i don’t date. were you born yesterday or something?” he speaks in a firm tone before catching the keys that gojo throws at him,

“no I wasn’t. but isn’t ‘she who shall not be named’ is like what? two years ago? and you got to stop with the one night stands. go get a girl tonight” he suggests, watching the dark haired man sliding himself into the car,

toji gives him a half hearted smile. “noted”

“i’ll be right behind you, boss. slow down, yeah?”

-

it takes about thirty minutes prior to arrival. toji blames it all on the traffic and the slow pedestrians crossing the road. cursing to himself every five seconds, each time he stops at red lights.

he parks his car close to the entrance before exiting from the vehicle, tossing his keys at one of the valet but not before roughly grabbing his collar and threaten to kill him if one scratch is prominent on his car.

clearing his throat, he walks into the bar. ignoring the stares and whispers at the sight of a notorious ruthless man who decides to pay the club a visit.

one thing he first to notice, the club is indeed packed. gojo wasn’t lying. as if God knew what is about to happen later on and isn’t going to let him get away with witnesses. he needs to play it safe tonight.

as he strides through the darkened room to find the table he had been reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him. delicate fingers stroking his chest and brushing against his shoulders, making him smirk. he can’t lie, most of them are gorgeous and he’s tempted enough to touch their skin, but he has to hold it. not that he isn’t interested, because his mind changed. he is definitely taking someone back to his place tonight.

fucking gojo. he has to be right every time.

speak of the devil, the white haired man appears by his side in minutes. nodding his head towards the area where the business should be conducted. toji follows him close towards the end of the room,

he gently pulls back a chair for him to sit, as gojo and the two of his other men stands behind to watch over. toji specifically asks for the furthest table, with a glass of whiskey has been prepared for him.

toji feels irritated. he hates doing all of this dirty work just because some fucking bastard isn’t able to keep up with the deal. he should’ve known not to trust alec to do business, yet when the pathetic excuse of a man begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head, toji thought why not? if he didn’t get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way.

“alright, alright—fuck! easy man!” alec’s frantic voice causes toji’s eyes to avert from the scene of the crowd. his eyebrows knitted, threatening gaze bores upon the man whose pushed forcefully by his men to sit, “mr. zenin! it’s always a pleasure to see you!”

mind that alec owes him more than fifty grand, and this fucker had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened,

he is definitely going to kill him,

“you don’t fucking talk to me that way, alec. i’m not your friend. you owe me something” toji warns, his finger pointing at him as he watches the trembling man gulp. “you remember?”

alec couldn’t feel more terrified as he casts a glance of toji’s gun on the table, facing towards him. “i—i know, man—sir” he corrects himself. “i didn’t forget. it’s just that the money is tight right now. the girls aren’t earning amount of money they—“

toji could only scoff, head thrown back. “i didn’t fucking hire your girls. i hired you. stop being a pussy and own up to that. you should know that me and patience never get along. i have one body bag left in my car and it would give me the tremendous pleasure writing your name on it” he grits his teeth, looking at alec with a dark look in his eyes as he balls his fist,

“i just need more time—“

“one month isn’t enough?!” toji barks, making alec jumps at the booming voice

“i need more. i promise. give me one more month. and i will do whatever you ask me to, sir zenin.” alec begs with hopeful eyes,

toji finds it disgusting and repulsive to see someone like him begging for mercy. or anyone at all. that gesture is weak and vulnerable. “i don’t give out second chances”

alec hears a gun clicks from behind. he doesn’t need to ask, he knows that one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. “sir zenin, please! just one more chance! please”

once again, toji isn’t a very patient man. he knows enough to understand that it’s a mistake. but he would love to see how this one goes, playing along with this little game of his.

toji isn’t a fool. never was.

he looks over at gojo, as if to ask what he thinks. the answer that gojo could give is ‘your choice, boss’

toji sighs, head shaking. “fine. you give me your best girl of the night, and i’ll give you one more month” he offers, taking a sip of his drink, leaning himself back to relax. “no more than that”

alec nods. though he feels like shitting himself because one month isn’t close enough for collecting the amount of money he owes toji to. still, he thinks this is better than nothing.

“take your pick, mr. zenin. or i could bring one or two here? we have twins in the back and they sure are on high demand, everyone has been begging me to—“

toji could only hum in response, not listening to a word he’s saying. his green eyes scanning over at the scene. the girls are putting on a show, showing off their skills, some are pulling a lap dance on a few customers. he cringes when one suddenly takes her bra off like she costs nothing. seems like none of these girls are his type. gorgeous? yes. but they don’t seem to do enough to make his cock twitch,

he’s about to take back the offer until his eyes fall on her. eyes widening in amusement and toji finds himself freezing on the spot.

a slight curvier woman has her leg hooked around the pole. long dark haired brushing against the marble floor as she arches her back slightly. toji observes the way her body moves so sensually yet gracefully, almost like a feather. the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her eyes manage to flirt with the crowd with one simple look. she has them lured into her presence. himself included.

her body—fuck, he doesn’t even know where to begin. delicious curves cladded in navy blue bodysuit, full breasts supported by the cup of her outfit that bounces each time she moves. soft thick thighs wrapped by a white fishnet stockings and legs decorated in white fuzzy pumps. overall it’s quite revealing, but it still presents the modesty she has on her. he’s not quite sure if it’s the outfit or it’s just her,

but only a fool would assume that it isn’t the latter.

toji feels his pants growing tight when his gaze lowers to how her hips moving in circles. in painfully slow motion too. almost like she knows how to tease and she’s doing it so perfectly. if only he had spotted her from before, he would’ve move closer.

a damn fucking beauty she is.

“her. i want her” toji speaks in a firmer tone, almost territorial. he just can’t take his eyes off the woman. watching every single move and a wink being thrown.

he chuckles when she swats a couple of old hands who seems desperate to try and cope a feel with a dirty look on her face. he couldn’t make out what she’s saying but he knows for sure that she’s telling them off,

‘gorgeous and a fighter’ he thinks to himself

“angel? you want her?” alec asks after he realizes who he’s pointing at,

“that’s her real name?”

“no. she doesn’t let anyone know her real name. she goes by that ever since she starts working here” alec informs, watching toji nods,

so she’s new?

“some calls her birthday cake”

that makes toji’s brows scrunched. he is about to ask why the name until the answer is immediately given to him when she decides to do a side split, making her plump ass bounce against the floor.

oh that’s why

“gorgeous” toji breathes, cocking his head to the side. “not taken is she? not that i care anyway. what a fucking dime she is. you’re going to give her to me, correct?” his voice is threatening enough, dark eyes moving to look at alec who nods.

“yes! of course, sir! if that’s what you want”

“fuck yes i do. bring her to me” he demands before gulping down his drink, watching how alec immediately scrambles off the chair and hurries towards where angel is performing,

toji keeps his eyes set on the mysterious lady. refusing to move. he doesn’t want to miss a single thing. especially when she’s on her hands and knees, ass up in the air for the crowd to see and eyes looking over her shoulder earning cheer, applause and money flown just for her.

gojo lets out a wolf whistle. “good choice, zenin”

he hums, the girl now up on her feet. lifting herself up after she hooks her arm around the pole and give them a twirl. “tell me gojo. have you seen anyone as beautiful as she is?”

“definitely not. you just might hit the jackpot”

indeed he did. toji may have made a lot of mistakes but he’s never wrong when it comes to choosing partners . he’s always careful with it.

there is something so different about her and he’s very sure about it too. from how she’s not afraid to tell the men in the audience off, putting that smart mouth to use. unlike the girls he has seen around where they just take the humiliation. but her?

she fights back. just how he likes his women.

“fuck off alec, i mean it! my shift is almost over. i’m not interested being passed around to your friends or co-workers!”

he hears her protest. toji doesn’t even realize that she’s walking closer towards his table with alec’s grip around her elbow,

“who said anything about passing you around? i just need to introduce you to one of the most important men here!” alec defends,

“weird way of saying you want me to suck their cocks” she comments

a foul mouth indeed toji thinks

alec throws her a hard glare, in which she only scoffs and roll her eyes. “mr. toji zenin, I would like to introduce you to angel. she’s been here for almost a year now.”

toji grins at that, standing up from his chair and looks over at the beauty with a disinterested look on her face. seemingly look like she doesn’t want to be here. yet she smiles at him anyway, and he swears he has never seen something so pretty,

“nice to meet you, beautiful ” toji extends his hand for her to take, giving a soft kiss on it. his eyes aren’t looking away from hers. “hell. you’re even gorgeous up close”

she won’t deny it. this man is absolutely handsome. and she doesn’t see a lot of them working here. most are old and married, which something that she finds disgusting. but this man, toji? he is far from ugly.

first thing she noticed was how broad he’s built. the way he towers over her and he’s not even standing that close to her small figure. even the dark room fails to hide the definition of his muscles through the black shirt he’s wearing. and the thin scar over his pulled lips, showcasing a smirk.

is this man even a man?

as handsome as he is, angel raises an eyebrow, not feeling entirely influenced by the gesture. “so have you been observing me this whole time? that’s creepy”

“angel” alec hisses, gripping her elbow a bit tighter making her flinch a bit and her body to cowers a little.

“sorry” she mutters in irritation, gaze falling down to the floor

the interaction somehow irks toji to the bone. he eyes how alec treats her in front him, it would probably even worse behind closed doors.

he doesn’t even want to know.

“you can fucking let go now alec, you’re hurting her” toji demands, throwing him a sharp stare. alec’s pupils are wide open at that, causing him to release his grip almost immediately and for angel to nurse her reddening skin.

one thing that toji wouldn’t accept, is violence against women.

toji’s gaze beginning to soften yet again when he watches the pretty girl before him. how her long hair cascading down her back, exposing the sharp of her collarbones and valleys of her breasts,

if only her look of fear is replaced with a look of comfort,

“you can leave us be. thanks” toji coldly orders at alec, not wanting to be near his presence anymore. he’s had enough seeing that bastard,

he nods, avoiding his stare but not before muttering a ‘don’t fuck this up’ to angel before one toji’s men escorts him out,

“don’t worry about him doll. he’s gone, yeah?” he comforts her almost immediately, not wanting her to be scared anymore,

“oh—yeah, uhm thanks” she shoots him a smile. a genuine one this time, taking his hand in hers when he offers it. "so how do you want this--''

“if you don’t mind” he puts a hand behind her back immediately to guide her to the couch behind, earning a quizzical look on her face. “i want to get to know you first”

“mr. zenin. with all due respect, this is not a date. i’m working”

he chuckles at her forward response, still she lets him lead to the velvet couch. angel sits first, eyes glancing up for a moment and see a handsome white haired man with his arms crossed. he quickly removes himself from the presence and walk out. his other men following him from behind.

and now there’s just two.

“i just want to take my time with you. is that okay?” toji sits back down, watching her crossed her legs as she keeps the distance between them,

she smiles with a shrug, toying with the strap of her bra, “you could do that while i’m giving you a dance—if you want?”

toji makes a mental note on how her eyes glow under the violet lights when she stares at him. almost like it’s so easy for him to see what goes beyond that. they’re so so pretty. prettiest he’s ever seen indeed. despite the flirty tone lacing under her response, she still has the look of innocence that makes him smile back.

she’s no better too. the way he’s looking directly into her eyes should be a crime. his gaze speaks something. something… lustful and dangerous.

he nods, letting out a breathe of relief as he leans himself back before spreading his thighs as an invitation.

“show me what you got then gorgeous”

angel swears she can hear the beat of her heart getting louder the moment she sits herself down on his lap. still, without him having to suspect anything, she keeps her flirty persona for a show.

“my, my—you really are a fucking dime” he lowly whistles, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. “i can see why people were loving you back there. hopefully they don’t get jealous when i stole you away”

she giggles, a small blush creeping on her cheeks. “aren’t you a flirt. you do this to every girl?”

toji places his hands on her plump ass, resting it there. he knows that there are rules where it’s forbidden you touch the dancers. but he doesn’t give a shit. and it’s not like anyone had the balls to tell him off anyway.

“only to those who i find interesting, baby” he says, eyes not looking away from the beauty as be squeezes her flesh making himself groan. “fuck me. that’s an ass? right here?”

his comment makes her laugh as she throws her head back. loving how genuine he actually sounds when he said that.

“so—mr. zenin” she begins, giving him a naughty smile as her hands finds their way to his shoulders, feeling how tense they are under his grip. “what brings you to this awful depth of town, hm?”

he clears his throat, wetting down the bottom of his mouth while keeping his hands steady on her hips. finding no desire to move them. “business. your bastard of a boss owes me something. I didn’t think i would actually be here right now, accompanied by a gorgeous woman like yourself”

damn. he sure is charming and cheeky. definitely a player. “you sure are a sweet talker, mr. zenin” she tells him before slowly beginning to grind against his bulge causing him to exhale another deep groan. “are you sure—you don’t make bitches wet talking like that?”

he mutters a low ‘christ’ when he feels himself growing hard under her sultry move, yet she isn’t stopping. and she only had just started. “believe me doll, i’ve had my fair shares with many—but damn, they sure don’t make me hard like you do—cross my heart”

her hips the move in tiny circles, keeping a painfully slow pace but enough to keep him satisfied. “i don’t trust you but okay—anyway, what did you and alec talked about anyway?”

“nosy, huh?”

she rolls her eyes. “i have the right to ask since he practically sold me to you for tonight—my shift was supposed to be over, mr. zeni—“

“toji” he cuts her off, thumb softly stroking against her hip bone

“what was that?”

“just call me toji” he repeats with a small grin. “and okay that’s fair—he has something very important of mine. was supposed to pay a month ago, but that piece of shit isn’t known to be the one who keeps his promises”

she hums in response, leaning herself back slowly and rests her palms upon his knees to keep her body steady. her hips are now moving back and forth.

toji shamelessly let his eyes wander down from her breasts to her thick thighs. “i was going to blow his brains out tonight. right here. on this one spot. but he begged like a bitch and i wanted to see how far he goes” he laughs almost darkly,

it scares her a little by how calm he’s being about murdering someone. with the way his eyes staring at her aren’t really helping too. like a predator eyeing his prey. almost like he knows how to make her weak on the knees.

“looks like he’s in big big trouble, then” she giggles cutely. “not surprised anyway. he owes alot of money to the girls too. mine included”

he cocks an eyebrow, feeling himself tensing. “does he now? how long?”

“can’t count. i had to pull bunch of shitty excuses to the landlord just so he won’t kick me out of the apartment. half of our earnings each night, goes to him. saying that he’ll pay me back but I know he never will” she spills casually, then her movement comes into a halt. “oh fuck, don’t tell him i said that”

with a chuckle, his head shakes. “i won’t. but i could kill him for you, if you want me to. just say the word” he speaks lowly, continuing to admire her body. “mind if i ask how long have you been working here?”

it takes her a while to answer. “almost a year. I quit college for this. not because i love it entirely, but i couldn’t pay for it anymore.” she sighs,

“i’m sorry to hear that. what were you studying?”

“bio-engineering” she smiles, “people tend to be surprised when i told them that”

“count me in as well, sweetheart, damn. not only she’s hot as fuck but she’s smart too?” he shakes his head in disbelief. “you even real, right now?”

she laughs, flipping her hair. “thank you, toji—can i ask you something?”

he hums, callouses hands move towards her back, holding her steady,

“what happened there” she points at the scar, struggling to find the urge not to trace her fingers across it,

he shrugs, “was from a fight years ago. nothing major”

“can i—touch it?” she softly asks him, looking so innocent yet teasingly,

toji smirks, head nodding. “go ahead, baby” he speaks in a low baritone. voice so deep and flirty that it almost makes her squirm,

she ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he calls her that. and without being told twice, she leans closer and her fingers reach out to pad the scar gently. feeling how soft his lips against her skin, paying attention to every single detail of it. wondering how on earth could a scar fit someone so perfectly.

there is no doubt on her mind, that he is the sexiest man she has ever come across to. she can feel the weight of his palm lowering itself down to her plump cheek, squeezing it. usually, she would tell anyone off for touching her like that. but this time, she doesn’t say anything. not because she’s afraid of him but she feels strangely turned on.

“fuck” he breathes out, feeling her ass one more time. hearing him like that just makes her giggle as she gradually picks up the pace grinding on him, catching toji off guard.

“such a naughty little girl—bet you wouldn’t mind having that ass spanked now would you?” he whispers against her ear, biting his lower lip hard.

though she would admit that she wouldn’t, she won’t allow him to win this game. she slowly shakes her head with a smirk, removing herself off his lap causing him to whine. angel spins around, not without swaying her ass side to side, sneaking a glance to make sure he’s watching,

her hand immediately circles around the pole in front of them. “dinner is mandatory if you want to go down to that path, mr. zenin”

toji watches carefully with lust and admiration as she now securing her arm around the golden pole, lifting herself off easily and give her body a gentle spin. eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. coming back down slowly, she re-enacts the movement from where she performed for the audience. legs spread apart, landing in a perfect split. long brown hair covering the side of her beautiful features, tongue licking her upper lip.

he follows the curve of her ass, eager to get his hands on them but he knows that he has to wait. there, he spots a small heart tattoo inked on her ass cheek,

angel is a little teaser. that’s for sure. enjoying herself too much in making a man hard yet refuses to be under the spell of a man’s touch. he likes that actually. likes that a lot. it may be painful to have his cock hard at the moment while she’s not doing anything about it but she’s worth it.

so, so worth it.

“you are so. fucking. sexy.” his voice switches into something darker, a seductive grin slowly forming as he thirsts over her. “must have made a lot of men mad out there”

“so i have been told” she declares with confidence, innocent smile pulling upon her lips as she begins to gently crawl towards him, eyes never leaving his.

she halts in between his open legs, settling on her knees. being the little minx she is, her hands find a place on top of his thighs. “i sense you carry danger everywhere you go, mr. zenin—am i wrong?”

she’s not dumb. she spotted his gun strapped against his holster an hour before she was even being introduced to the man.

he delicately caresses her soft cheek, almost came in his pants when she leans against his palm. “why? that scares you?” he moves a few strands of hair that are blocking his view of her pretty face,

she shakes her head, a smile doesn’t leave her face. in fact, he hears a soft giggle escapes her.

his eyes move from the curve of her breasts and up to her mouth. eyeing the way that pink gloss compliments her pretty skin.

“would love to have a taste—right here” toji whispers, his thumb grace her lower lip. his breath immediately hitches, and a groan rumbles deep in his chest the moment she opens her mouth.

“fuck—what a good girl” he moans lowly when she lets his thumb rest upon her warm wet tongue. the angelic look in her eyes disappears and is replaced with a look of lust. “s-shit” it takes him by surprise when she decides to suckle it, head bobbing her head up and down painfully slow,

“jesus—i wish it was my cock you’re sucking right now, baby” nonetheless, the amount of pleasure she’s giving him is enough to keep him satisfied,

“holy fuck, wow” she pops her lips off his thumb. wiping the saliva from the corner of her mouth before giggling again. the sound makes toji smile. genuinely.

“you’re trouble” he comments with a tsk, chuckling at the way she shrugs innocently as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. “alright. up you get, baby”

she gives him a questionable look, following his movement and rise to her feet. “mr. zenin, we still have thirty minutes left. alec gave me at least an hour and he would be upset if i—“

“if he touches you, you tell me and i’ll kill him. understand?” toji sternly orders, brows furrowing at the thought of that lowlife bastard putting his hands on her,

she’s baffles at that. how could he know what goes behind closed doors? still she nods anyway. “yes, sir”

“toji, baby. toji” he corrects with a smile. “besides, if i stayed for another ten minutes, i’ll l cream in my pants and that would be embarrassing” he shamelessly points out. she blushes at that and it makes toji’s heart skips a bit,

“this doesn’t mean it’s a one and done. i would love to see you again, sweetheart. can’t let you go too far now can i?” he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and hands her thick amount of hundreds. “here you go, angel”

she gasps softly as her eyes go big, shocked by the bundle of cash in his hand. if she counts it right that’s gotta be at least close to one grand.

“toji this is—fuck this is too much, I—i can’t take these. twenty or fifteen is enough for me”

he frowns. who in the right mind think it’s okay for men to tip a gorgeous woman with a rocking body some loose change? fucking assholes.

“baby, you do realize who you’re talking to? i don’t give out twenty or less” he quirks an eyebrow, watching her adorable expression. “money isn’t a problem to me. a grand isn’t a problem to me. come on, you deserve it”

she stares down at his hand and hesitantly takes the money. flashing him a wide smile. “mr—i mean, toji, oh my god thank you so much. thank you, thank you!” without any second thoughts, she jumps out and wrap her arms around his neck,

“you don’t know how much this means to me. i needed this”

toji stumbles a bit, the sudden movement surprises him but he appreciates it. the way she keeps thanking him, muttering couple of blessings has somehow gives his heart a little kick,

a good one.

“no need to thank me, baby” toji grins, holding her by the waist to keep her secured for a moment before pulling away. “you take care of yourself yeah? don’t be wandering too far. would love to take you out on a stroll” he leans down to peck her cheek,

“I’ll be sure to stop by and see you again, gorgeous” with one last devilish smile, he walks out of the room. leaving her still in complete shock,

he is no ordinary man, alright. it kinda makes her feel a bit weird by all the butterflies that are erupting her stomach by how he acted earlier. has it been.. what? two or three years since she had been engaged in any sort of relationships with a man. and there has been no real man crawling around this city. only rats. she fucking hates rats.

but toji zenin? there’s definitely something about him that makes his whole aura and appearance a lot more sexier. again, she’s not stupid. she has seen the gun. observed his interaction with her boss. and the men he had protecting him suits?

that’s no 9-5 man. it’s dirty work.

and it should’ve scared her. it should’ve been a warning made for her to run and avoid him because he’s a man that carries danger everywhere he goes. toji zenin is a man that would not hesitate to paint the whole town in blood of his victims if one ever crosses his territory.

yet as she glances down at the bills being handed at her and promise from him that he would see her again, it makes her smile. heart thumping at the thought of the beautiful man coming back only for her.

angel clutches the money against her chest, squealing as she does little bounces in her heels with a giggle. overjoyed with the amount of cash that would help her,

she’s definitely making toji her new favorite client

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For a snapshot imagine a driver accidentally hurting the reader and she has to hide it from Danny because he would lose his shit. He gets worried but a bit angry that she’s lying the cause of it. Once he finds out he wants to kill the other driver because is a severe injury

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {4}

WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

You settled into the driver’s seat of an Aston Martin used for hot laps, keeping your arms out of the way while you were harnessed in. Lando and Oscar doing the same in the other two cars parked beside you, except they didn’t need the extra help to be buckled in. “I’m telling you now, this is a bad idea. I want that on the record. There’s a reason I’m a passenger princess.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lando promised over the headset and you fiddled with the dozens of buttons on the steering console. “Just don’t touch anything!”

“You should have told me that before.” The cameraman sat beside you laughed nervously and you narrowed your eyes at the lens. “If I die, I want you to remember this: I told you so.”

You muttered under your breath that you were not paid enough for the crap your employer put you through but it only made Oscar and Lando laugh as the microphone picked it all up. 

“Okay, we’ll start off with a warm up lap, just take it slow and get used to the car,” Oscar said as Lando led the way onto the track. “I’ll follow so you don't get lost.”

“It’s a flippin circle, Piastri, how often do you get lost?”

The car shot forward, throwing you and the cameraman back into your seats as you pressed the accelerator and out of reflex you slammed your foot on the brake to counter the effect. Oooph! The air was squeezed from your lungs as the car stopped but your body kept going forward, the harness like a wall hitting your chest. 

“I think you’ve put it in race mode. Turn it to sport mode.”

You scanned the buttons and saw what he meant, making the adjustment before tentatively touching the accelerator, gently speeding up to 70mph.

“I know we said take it slow but you can speed up a little bit,” Oscar teased as he tailgated you, Lando nowhere to be found up ahead.

“You do realise I am not actually a racer? I just date one.”

“Danny must have taught you something in the last two years.”

“Yeah,” Lando interrupted with a giggle. “But from what I heard, it isn’t anything to do with racing.”

You might have laughed if you weren’t concentrating so hard on following the track, until something caught your eye. “Uh, Oscar, are there wombats in Canada?”

“No…that’s a groundhog.”

Another brown ball of fur charged across the track and you screamed as you slammed on the brakes, not wanting to hit the poor animal. Oscar hadn’t expected you to brake so suddenly, or try to swerve aside. There was nothing you or he could do when you started to spin out, straight into the space his car was aiming for.

“Shit, shit, is she okay? Is she okay?” 

You could hear the panic in Oscar’s voice as he tried to push his way through the crowd of first responders trying to open your door. Pain radiated down your arm but other than that you seemed to be in one piece, except the world was upside down. “I told you so.”

“What the hell happened!” Lando exclaimed as he arrived at the crash site in time to see you escorted into the back of the medics van. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Not particularly,” you murmured around the tube you bit between your teeth. You sucked in another deep breath of pain relief as your arm was jostled and looked up to see Lando shaking his head.

“Not you,” he said as he looked at Oscar’s pale face. “Daniel’s going to kill you, mate.”

“No, he’s not,” you huffed as you got off the stretcher you had been guided to. “I’m fine so he’s never going to know.”

“You see those,” Lando stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Those are cameras, they record things, pictures, sounds. Yeah, he’s gonna know.”

“I know what a camera is, a heavy one just fucking hit me.” You cradled your arm to your chest and took a calming breath. “This wasn’t live so it’s going to be a few weeks before this even gets uploaded. By then I’ll be fine and we can all have a laugh about it, alright. I just need to make sure Danny doesn’t hear about it before then.”

“Kind of hard when you need to go to the medical centre.”

“Then I won’t go.”

So you didn’t.

You did however accept the box of pain relief and advice to see a doctor if the pain persisted or you showed any signs of a concussion. You weren’t worried so much about that since the helmet had protected your head, it was just your arm that took the brunt of a camera smashing into it.

Daniel was surprised to see you already in the hotel room when he arrived from his meeting. Usually you stayed at the paddock later in preparation for the upcoming races but he was happy to have a few extra hours alone with you.

Leaning across the back of the couch, he greeted you with a kiss but you pulled away as his palms trailed down your body. His touch had been soft but you had still felt the burst of pain in your arm and you were glad to be wearing a long sleeve shirt to hide the bruised skin.

He frowned at the distance you had put between your bodies and he was instantly on edge. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling very good.”

He grabbed his phone and opened the app that monitored your monthly cycle before closing it with a frown. “Should I call for a doctor? Do you have a fever?”

He reached for your forehead but as his hand lifted it brushed against your arm and your face pinched as a pained cry hissed through your teeth.

“What happened?” he asked with barely restrained rage, his fingers desperate to touch you but unsure if it was going to cause you more pain. Tears were already welling in your eyes as you tried to keep the ruse up, but it was becoming unbearable.

“There was an accident,” you admitted as the wet streaks ran down your cheeks. “I didn’t want you to worry…”

“You’re hurt, kitten, of course I’m going to fucking worry.” He swiped the room key back up from where he had tossed it along with his phone and keys. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

You knew he was fuming from the clipped tone and the white knuckle grip he had on his keys. Reaching out with your good hand, you laced your fingers with his and whimpered into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel gently wiped the tears from your cheeks before kissing your forehead with a shaky breath. “I’m not angry at you, love, but don’t you ever lie to me again, not when it comes to your health.”

You nodded meekly before he reached for the door handle where he paused. “Lando or Oscar?”

“What?”

“You were filming with McLaren today.” He looked back at you, scanning your face for the truth. “Who do I blame?”

“It was an accident. Please, Danny, can we just go? It's so sore.”

His eyes softened at the admission and he twisted the handle but you knew the conversation wasn’t finished, merely delayed.

“He broke her fucking arm!”

The wince had nothing to do with the doctor setting the cast on your arm and everything to do with Daniel’s voice out in the corridor. He had been on the phone the instant the X-ray came back and showed a clear fracture down the bone. Now you were going to have a bulky accessory on your arm for the next six weeks.

“You’re lucky it was only her arm or I’d be on my way to jail by now,” he growled as he pushed the door open and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“It was an-” you fell silent under the glare you knew wasn’t actually directed at you. He hated to see you hurt and hated he hadn’t been able to prevent it. It left his hands trembling with rage.

“I don’t know what they were thinking,” he muttered as he fell into the chair beside your bed and lifted your good hand to his lips. “Stupid fucking little videos...promise me no more.”

“But it’s my job.”

“Then quit,” he offered, like it was the simplest option in the world. “It’s not like you need it, I take care of you already, and I like taking care of you.”

“Danny…” you sighed, unsure how to approach the situation. “What if we ever broke up?”

“Is that in your plans?”

“No, but-”

“Good, because I plan on keeping you forever, and I’m more than happy to make that official. Obviously this is just a placeholder until we get home.” He started to pull the ring he wore on his pinky finger. “What? I’m terrible at losing shit, I wasn’t going to carry around your engagement ring until I found the right time to propose to you.”

You chuckled as he waited for your hand to unfurl from the fist it was in. “And you decided this was the right time?”

“I could have lost you today, kitten, I’m not going to waste another moment.” Your hand uncurled and the warm metal slid onto your ring finger before he kissed it and leaned in to kiss you too. “You’re mine, always.”

“Always,” you promised against his lips.

“Perfect, if we elope today I’ll get conjugal visits when I kill Oscar.”

Click here for part five

[specterllaw]

F@cking the boss - Harvey x Reader Part 2/2

Summary: after weeks of being sexual with Harvey he catches you trying to get with a guy after he flirts with thousands of females, Harvey immediately reminds y/n who she belongs to.

Warning: S M U T.

It had been three amazing weeks of being with Harvey Specter, the bizarre surprises, the midnight sex, the office sex, everything about it was amazing, but something was bothering you. Harvey never called you his girlfriend, never said it was exclusive, so you went out to the club with Lisa, someone you met on the firm, you ended up getting a little too drunk and had what you thought was an amazing idea at the time. You called Harvey's driver to bring you home, you attempted to bring a guy home with you but the driver refused, so you drunkingly apologized and flopped in the seat.

You woke up on your couch, your head was pounding, you had no idea how you got inside from the driver's car and you still felt tipsy and why was all of the lights off except for one? and why were there legs hanging off the chair in the corner? Sitting up straight you tried to blink the drowsiness and alcohol away as you stared at the person in the corner "Harvey?" You questioned as you noticed his bag and suit jacket laying on the counter. "My driver called." He huffed "How did I get inside?" You asked groaning as he flipped on the living room light "I was the one who picked you up." He stated "You were too drunk to realize and so was Lisa. I'm disappointed in you both. and you trying to take home a gas station clerk? really?" He asked, you felt like every defendant you heard him question on the stand in his trials. "I..You!..In my defense Harvey you've never stated what we were! You always flirt with girls so I thought it was a casual boss and receptionist deal" You huffed crossing your arms "Cut the bullshit Y/n" He said sharply standing up, you looked up at him raising your eyebrows "You have commitment problems, Harvey" You challenged, it was dangerous when you two argued, it either ended up in Jessica being mediator to make you two get along or it ended in rough make-up sex where Harvey refuses to say he's wrong, you both were hard headed and stubborn and both fought to get whatever you wanted.

"Stand up" He ordered, you stood your ground, not giving in "You kneel, Harvey" You ordered back, he glared, narrowing his eyes towards you, you were both glaring before finally Harvey took a large stride forward grabbing your top pulling you to your feet "You wanna be with me? Let's do it. You wanna ride my dick? Go right ahead princess. You wanna make this a real thing? let's do it" He said pulling you closer before resting his hands on your hips. You looked at him nodding before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands immediately coming up to rest on your ass. You leaned forward kissing his neck while he walked forward until he hit the closest wall like thing near you both, the large windows of your apartment that were only giving you privacy by the shitty curtains that didn't even reach the bottom of the curtains. As your back hit the wall you let your head fall back, you could feel his hot breath on your neck as he slowly moved one hand to your hair to tug lightly "Do you want this, Princess?" He whispered, you nodded whimpering and mentally crumbling because of the nickname. "Good. Because I've had a feeling I need to show you who's mine" He grunted as he pulled your hair more causing you to look fully up, You gasped as all of a sudden you felt him press himself against you while kissing your neck and squeezing and twisting your nipple. As fast as it started though, it was just as fast stopping, Harvey watched as you basically held onto his shoulders to keep yourself from sinking to your knees in desperation. "See? See how fast I can take this all away?" He grunted before holding your hips pulling you towards your room pushing you onto the bed, slowly pulling off your dress and coat, you smirk at him thinking he's going to continue whining and groaning as you saw him start to put on your sleep shorts and tanktop, only now do you take in his bed head, his nightpants and t-shirt that was lazily thrown on, and the time, three-twenty-six AM. Harvey woke up and came and got you? Then stayed? All when he has a deposition tomorrow morning at nine AM, Maybe he did love you.

You woke up again at Six that morning to Harvey climbing out of bed. "Harv?.." You whispered watching as he tiredly turned around to look at you, resting a hand on your cheek "hmm?" he hummed softly in curiosity "I love you" you whispered "I love you too" He whispered tiredly kissing your forehead before going to take a shower. You took the to plan.

The office was closed, everybody but a couple people left a bit ago and you took your opportunity to hide under Harvey’s desk, waiting for him. It only took a couple of minutes before you saw him take a seat and scoot forward, you slowly started undoing his belt. “Y/n. What’re you doing? You’re not suppose to be here I gave you the day off” he questioned holding a hand over one of yours, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand “came to thank you for taking care of me..for waking up and doing all of that for me..and for loving me” You whispered looking up at him as he scooted back to see you.

“Oh really?” He asked “who says I love you?” He questioned teasingly “shut up, jerk, you said so this morning” you grumbled smacking his hand playfully “I’m kidding, I love you” he smiled leaning down to peck your lips “go ahead my princess, but don’t get caught”

You smirked as he scooted his chair forward again helping you undo his slacks and belt, you smiled leaning in to give a playful bite to his thigh, he grabbed your hair tugging a bit “gentle” he demanded taking his suit jacket and vest off, leaving him in his shirt, tie, and slacks, his dick being pulled out between his boxers and slacks. You took your time, taking in the sight before licking your hand a couple of times, wrapping it around his dick and starting to motion your hand up and down. You changed your pace, from fast to slower, you were listening to Harvey’s breathing, how it’d pick up and relax. “Get to work, slut.” He grunted growing frustrated with your half-ass teasing, you smiled peeking up at him through the small crack between the desk and his torso, he had a rough glare directed towards you. He raised his eyebrows as you gave him a swift nod, allowing him to grab your hair and lower your head to where you were taking his dick in your mouth. You immediately took over swallowing around him as you moved your head up and down, he kept a hold on your hair trying to focus on keeping a straight face as the late night workers passed by.

You could feel yourself getting wet in your thong but you didn’t really care at the moment, you slowly brought your tongue up the shaft and around his tip before Harvey pushed your head down farther making you take his dick down your throat. You whimpered a bit as you swallowed around him hearing the door open and close “hey Harvey, I’ve got those Briefing done for you a day early I’ve also gotta talk to you about a case” Mike said standing in the middle of the office “thank you mike. Leave it on my desk and we can talk tomorrow” Harvey demanded dismissing him “but I really think these need to be handled tonight” he protested “Ross! Go home! Get rest!” Harvey snapped watching the kid rush out towards his office then the elevators.

Harvey tugged your hair pulling you off before scooting back pulling you up to sit on his lap, you could feel his erection between your legs, and just by the look he was giving you, you knew you were about to have to be carried home. “Take em off.” He whispered in your eye watching you push your thong off out from under your skirt, he helped you position yourself over his dick and lap before you slowly lowered yourself feeling his dick enter you and stretch you out to his size and liking. “I had to wake up at one in the fucking morning” he grunted as he thrusted up against your hips, you immediately jerked forward feeling his tip hit your cervix as you dug your nails into his back “come pick up your drunk ass. Had to run off a guy you were trying to let fuck you.” He growled thrusting his hips more often forcing you to bite his shoulder to stay quiet. “Then deal with having to see you in the hottest fucking lingerie I’ve ever seen on your amazing body, and yet the only thing I could think of- god Damnit it” he huffed before lifting you up with ease carrying you to his couch before laying you down pushing his dick back inside of your pussy. You whimpered wrapping your legs around his waist “-was you wearing it for some other guy. Whenever you belong to me. You’re my fucking slut. Only mine” he grunted starting to fuck you a lot harder, wrapping his hand around your throat squeezing lightly. You whined tightening your legs around him as he took his tie off shoving it into your mouth to keep quiet “now be quiet while daddy fucks your brains out and reminds you that you’re mine.” He whispered to you before using his other hand to start rubbing your clit, your back arched immediately as you turned your head to the side, between his finger work and fucking you it was too much. He was too much. He was too good. “Fuck princess. Good girl, you’re such a good slut for me” he huffed in your ear as he sped up his thrusts. You whimpered attempting to close your legs whenever you heard the elevator ding, meaning someone was just a couple feet from Harvey’s office, he smirked, and you could swear you saw a devious glint in his eye. He pressed his hips further into you making your back arch and you gasp. He slowed his pace making you try and push your hips back to feel him fill you up again but he stayed before grabbing your hips pulling you up making you sit on his lap to ride him. “Ride my cock, slut.” He demanded “you want me to know you’re sorry for trying to fuck someone else? Ride me until I say we’re done.” He demanded watching you bite your lip and nod “such a desperate slut” Harvey growled using his thumb to slowly go over your clit as you slowly rolled your hips making both you and Harvey moan. You immediately started to bounce your hips after that, loving the feeling of him holding your hips and directing your moves as you rode his cock. “F-fuck Harvey” you tried to groan through his tie, he ripped it out of your mouth as you pulled his torso closer, never failing the motion of your hips as he started kissing your neck and exposed cleavage. “My desperate Slut. Nobody can fuck you like this and I’m gonna make sure you know.” He grunted in your ear, you whined tightening around him making him halt his movements as he started to cum inside of you making you whine and moan moving your hips, Harvey quick to keep your hips still as he finished “Pleaaaase daddy” you whined as he slowly pulled out crawling down between your legs.

Harvey gave your Clit a solid lick making your hips jolt and your hands get entangled in his hair. You moaned and thrived around as he started to show no mercy against you or your pussy. By the fifth time you came your legs were shaking like crazy and you had tears going down your cheeks from pleasure. You watched as he slowly leaned up wiping his mouth with his thumb before popping it in his mouth sucking any flavor left off of his thumb. You whimpered watching him before he slowly pulled your thong back on your body, he fixed himself back into his slacks before lifting you up ready to help you out to the car “that’s just go one, princess..we’re going again when we get home” he whispered in your ear making you squeeze your legs together in anticipation and whine holding his hair tightly in your hands.

[kvtie444]

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET .8

summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Standing outside the sorority house, I try to balance myself against the wall, waiting for Matt. The warm summer night feels comforting as he's on his way. Bright headlights approach, and I shield my eyes, peering through my fingers – Matt's car. I push off the wall, stumbling towards the vehicle. A car door opens, and there's Matt.

Oddly although I missed him, I dread seeing him. I focus my vision as he walks over, his blue eyes more intense than ever. He takes hold of my waist without a word, guiding me into the car and opening the door for me. I drop into the seat, leaning back and tilting my head, gazing at the other side of the car. Matt's hair brushes my face as he reaches over, buckling my seatbelt before closing my door and settling into the driver's seat. Instead of starting the car, he sighs, looking visibly stressed. Then, it hits me.

"Why did you drive here when I live down the road?" I ask, studying his side profile as he keeps his focus on the steering wheel. "Why did you call me instead of just walking there yourself?" he retorts quickly. I swallow, glancing at my lap. I feel like such an idiot.

"Need gas anyways," he mumbles before starting the car and heading to the station. I prop my arms by my window, leaning my head against them and staring out. It's awkward. Should I try to make conversation? Yes.

"I finished that book you gave me – Tristes Tropiques," I speak up. He hums in agreement quietly. The truth is, after he ended things with me, I reread it three times over the weekend, reading his annotations. I loved his handwriting, trying to understand how his brain works. Another silence.

"Are we nearly there yet?" I mumble, sitting up and looking at him. Silence. "Do you think when we get there, I could grab a drin-" "Jesus, y/n, can you just shut the fuck up? For one fucking minute, just stop running your mouth? Huh?" he cuts me off, looking at me and slamming his hand against the steering wheel after each question. I bite my tongue for a moment, keeping my gaze fixed on him. We stay silent until we reach the gas station, Matt unbuckling his seatbelt.

"You're such a dick," I mumble my thoughts. Matt whips his head to me, "Y/n, I don't wanna deal with your shit right now, okay?" he raises his voice, motioning his hand up towards me. I push his hand away, "Stop yelling at me," I grumble. He grabs my wrist and pulls me towards him, his hot breath fanning over my face. His eyes stay fixed on mine, now icy and cold. "Get your fucking shit together," he hisses at me, pushing me away from him. He opens the car door and slams it, going to fill up his car.

My eyes brim with water, and I'm quick to wipe them. I never wanted him to see me hurt ever again. I watch as he walks inside the station to pay. I hated how he was still in this facade, putting up with this nonchalant bullshit. I look down at my phone and check the time when I hear Matt get back in. He tosses a bottle of Gatorade and a cereal bar on my lap without a word. I decide it's best to keep my mouth shut and tear open the packet, taking a bite.

・₊✧ Matt pov ˚｡⋆

I was pissed at her, hating when she drank like this; it was irresponsible. I see her twist the cap of the Gatorade, her unsteady hand going up to her lips when she spills some on her lap, staining her white outfit. I sigh. She's quick to put the drink in the cup holder and tries to pat it dry with her hand. "I’m sorry," she mumbles, rubbing harder against the fabric of her skirt. I swallow, watching her frustrated state. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice breaking, and her rubbing becomes impossibly more aggressive. I see tears brim in her eyes, and my heart breaks. I grab her wrist, forcing her to look at me. "It’s okay, just leave it, okay?" I plead. She sniffs and pushes my hands away from her, then reaches for the car door. She gets out. Shit.

I’m quick to get out and follow her, not even bothering to shut my door behind me. "Y/n, get back in the car," she ignores me and keeps walking down the road. "You’re drunk, just get back in." Ignored again, I realize what she's doing. She's giving me the same treatment I gave her. I reach her and grab her arm, turning her back to me. "Can you just get back in the car, please?" "Get the fuck off me!" her voice breaks, pushing me away. I just stare at her, dry tears on her cheek that glistened in the moonlight. "You told me you fucking loved me, then you completely ghosted me. I mean, what the fuck, Matt?" she cries. I run my hand through my hair. "It’s more complicated than that, Y/n, come on, you know why I had to do that," I try to keep my cool, using a softer tone than earlier. There’s a silence, the only sound being passing cars by the road.

"Tell me you don't love me," she breaks the silence. I almost choke up. "Y/n, we're not together anymore," I mumble. Her eyes shift, but she keeps her stand, looking up at me. "Tell me you don't love me anymore," she repeats. Fuck.

I don't know how to play my card right now. I could lie, tell her I don't. But that would break her. I want her to do better, be a better person without me. Or I could tell her the truth. I still love her more than myself.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

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[1989butcher]

All Night

daryl dixon x reader

accidentally injured on a run, daryl refuses to leave your side till you wake.

set in early alexandria era

3.5k words ! mostly fluff, maybe a bit of angst but just daryl being angry for a bit. enjoy!!

not my gif!

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You were running. Bags wrapped to your body, holding as much supplies as you possibly could as the building burned behind you. “Y/N! Come on!” Rosita yelled from the driver’s side of the truck. You were panting, and could feel blood dripping from your forehead. Just a bit further, you told yourself. You heard the dead right behind you, the ones that weren’t attracted to the fire that is. There were at least 100, maybe more. Abraham opened the door from the inside of the truck, extending his arm out for you to grab. His face was also coated in blood, but it was walker blood. You practically threw yourself at him, and he pulled you into the truck. Rosita floored the gas and sped back home.

Before you could even take the bags off, your head hit the back of the seat and you were out like a light. You had been in the building when Rosita threw the dynamite stick in. Not in an attempt to injure you, but to get the swarm of walkers that were surrounding you away. You had been scavenging the building a little longer than planned, but also none of you saw the dozens from behind the building file in. When the dynamite went off, you flew against the wall, your head throbbing and ears ringing. You were knocked flat on the ground, grabbing your head in. You shook yourself awake, hearing the growls of the dead, and grabbed your bags as fast as you could before running out.

What happened next are only the bits and pieces you remember, when your eyes would flutter open or when your hearing would return. While you were sleeping, more or less just passed out, Abraham had taken the bags off of you as your head rested against the window now. You slightly woke as he pulled each strap from over your head and the back pack off your back, but you never fully gained consciousness.

“Rosita, I’m gonna need you to step on the gas a little harder, my friend.” Abraham said, shooting a concerned look through the rear view mirror where Rosita made eye contact. She pressed her lips in a line and did just what he asked, Glenn turning to look at you. The four of you had only been out a few hours, but since the run wasn’t really planned, it was more of an exploration, you were all a little banged up. You had just unfortunately been in the line of fire. Glenn opened his backpack to reveal some gauze, handing it to Abraham. “Put this on her head to try and stop the bleeding.” He nodded, holding the gauze to your head for the entire duration of the car ride. He was the one that told Rosita to throw the dynamite in the room he had already cleared, or he thought he did. You had wandered back in there to look around a bit more, not realizing what was happening outside. It was a mistake, and you weren’t angry, you just didn’t think you were going to step so close to death today.

You remember feeling pressure on your forehead; you weren’t sure if it was pain or Abraham’s hand, but it just felt hot. The gates were pulled open and everyone opened their door to get out, except for you. “We need help! ” Glenn called out, heading to your side of the truck. Although Abraham had opened his door, he stayed inside, keeping his hand on your still bleeding head. You were losing the color in your face. “No dying today, Missy.” He whispered under his breath. Rosita slowly opened your door, catching your shoulder as it dropped. Glenn was next to her, the two of them carrying you on their shoulders. You were dead weight, honestly by the sheer amount of blood from your head and body, you looked to be dead too. The fear of losing you became all too real for the archer.

After Glenn called for help, a few people from your group came sprinting down the street. Maggie came from the garden, already coming to greet Glenn, but ran after he called out. Rick and Michonne came flying out of their house, and Daryl followed right behind them, running even faster as your seemingly lifeless body was removed from the car. His heart was pounding, it’s like he knew this would happen. Right when he lets someone in they go and leave him, happened to his brother first, then Beth, and now you. Glenn saw the look on his face when he came at them full speed as him and Rosita were slowly but surely carrying you to the infirmary. Daryl looked at him for answers after scanning you up and down. “She’s still breathing, dude. Got knocked out after a run in with a herd.” Glenn was out of breath, since his own body was aching from being hurt too. The archer didn’t respond, just nudged Rosita out of the way and picked you up bridal style.

He looked down at your face, your eyes still shut and your arm now hung over his. You were completely out of it and it terrified him. He could never stop you from going on runs, it was your favorite thing to do together, it added a little adventure after getting used to being so comfortable at Alexandria. He quickly carried you up the steps of the infirmary, kicking the door open with Denise sitting on one of the cots. “What happened?” She asked worriedly, placing her book down and rushing to your side. “Dunno-“ the archer was cut off by Rosita standing in the door frame. “A herd came when she was still in the building. We thought she was out and tossed an explosive in to distract the herd so we could leave.” Her voice wavered, she felt absolutely terrible. You were her friend, more so family now, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt you. The fear that coursed through her veins when throwing that stick was a fear she had never felt before. Rosita didn’t see you exit the building, but if she waited another second it would be too late. Glenn and Abraham were fighting off walkers when ‘Big Red’ as you called him, cried out he was certain you exited and were making your way around. He swore he saw you right behind him.

Pure anger was all Daryl felt. He could’ve punched Rosita’s lights out right here, right now. He turned his head to meet Rosita when she spoke and when their eyes met she could feel his anger from across the room. She shook her head and broke the eye contact, but she could still feel his eyes burning into her skull. Denise listened intently to her words, before getting right to work on fixing you up. She also desperately wanted to ease the tension. “Daryl, can you please get some water. She’s dehydrated.” Denise didn’t even look at him, afraid of his eye contact in all honesty. He stood up without saying a word, walking right out the door to go grab water from the pantry, purposely slamming his shoulder into Rosita’s. Once he was gone, and would be back within a minute, Rosita sighed, and quickly came to assist Denise.

“Let me help, please.” She grabbed gauze and some alcohol, cleaning your other wounds and waiting for Denise’s instructions. You didn’t have any serious injuries, you needed some stitches, water, and rest. You maybe had a mild concussion, but until you woke there wouldn’t be much of a way to tell.

As Daryl stormed down the street, Rick saw the anger in his eyes. He quickly grabbed his wrist, Daryl pulling away as soon as he felt Rick’s touch. “Daryl, stop, you need to cool down.” He said calmly, jumping in front of his path. Daryl attempted to go around him, but Rick kept stepping in front. “Move.” He was about to blow. He needed to get back to you. Getting water was the only thing he could do for you. “It was an accident. They told me the whole thing.” Date cut him off, yelling “She could have died!” He took a step back, staring Rick down.

Rick placed his hands on his hip, sighing. “I know that, man, but she didn’t. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Daryl scoffed at his friend, someone he called his brother. “The hell it ain’t!” A few Alexandrians were watching the altercation now, along with Glenn and Maggie on the porch of their house, Carol was with Michonne and Abraham at the truck, a few of your other people scattered around. The pair could feel the eyes on them, but Daryl’s rage was fueling him. He couldn’t protect you, couldn’t fix what had happened, he needed someone to blame. As usual, he blamed himself. Rick was quiet for a second, knowing Daryl had something else to say.

“If I’d been there-“ the archer started, staring at the ground now. Rick shook his head, “Brother, do not do this.” Rick wanted to step closer to him, but talking with Daryl was not like any normal conversation, especially when he was angry, or when it came to you. “Nah! If I was there, nothin’ woulda happened to her!” He began to feel eyes on him now. Rick lowered his head, sighing “It’s not on you Daryl, it’s just not.” Daryl stepped back, anger still running rampant in him. Until you were awake, he would still be angry. He didn’t reply to Rick, instead he walked around him, bringing back the water he was asked for.

As he jogged up the steps, he saw Rosita at your side. He quickened his steps, making them louder so she would walk away. It worked. She looked at him and quickly stepped away and out of the room. You were cleaned up now, a handful of stitches were near your hairline where the large gash once was. Your other cuts were clean, some covered. He pulled a chair up to your bedside, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “She should be okay, probably just going to sleep for a while.” Denise broke the silence, looking you over one more time to see if she missed anything. Daryl nodded in reply, a wave of slight relief washed over him, and the anger was quiet now. Since he laid eyes on you sleeping, he couldn’t hold on to the emotion. He just wanted you to open your pretty eyes.

Denise took some supplies and quietly walked out of the building, shutting the door behind her. The other three you were with sustained minor injuries, Rosita had informed her of this when the two were alone with you. She also knew Daryl so desperately craved privacy with you, although he’d never say it. He just had that look.

Once she was gone, he took your hand in his. He wasn’t much of a crier, but the fear of you being dead was way too real today. He was just staring at you as his mind raced. If you woke up, he would have no idea what to say. His immediate thoughts were ‘The hell were you thinkin’?’ Or ‘You coulda died’, but he knew better than to say these kind of things to you. You would always reply with something lighthearted as a way to ease the tension. Everyday was spent running from death, people died everyday before the apocalypse and they died everyday still, just even more so.

He brushed some hair out of your face, tucking some of it behind your ear as he always did. It was a habit he had. You two would be mid conversation whether it was in bed or out walking, and he would gently push some hair out of your face and behind your ear. It never failed to make you blush. He kept his hand near your face, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Need ya here. I need ya.” He whispered. The sun was setting when you had pulled up, and it was now pitch black in your community. He peered out the window at the sound of creeping on the porch. He pulled his hand away from your face, but not your hand. He was still as shy as every when it came to affection. It was Denise returned with the unused reply. “Sorry.” She muttered, leaving as quickly as she had come in.

Daryl sat there for hours, his hand in yours. He eventually turned the dimmed lights all the way off, as a way to conserve power and he thought it would help you sleep. You loved to sleep in total darkness, always had. He learned this about you one night, shortly after Terminus. He was on watch, and you had a habit of sleeping near him, since you would take watch often as well. You would wrap a t-shirt, or use the sleeve of your jacket to cover your eyes as you slept. One night, before you had fallen asleep, he playfully lifted the sleeve. “Hey,” your voice was groggy, “I’m using that.” You didn’t even open your eyes, just reached your arm up to pull his back down. He released the sleeve and let out a small chuckle. “Weirdo.” He said, under his breath of course. You heard it and shot your head up, this time removing the sleeve from your eyes and rested it on your forehead. “What did you say to me?” You snapped, jokingly of course. “Nothin’, nothin’ at all.” You rolled your eyes and laid back down before he mumbled another “Weirdo.” You sat right back up and attacked him with tickles and teases, the two of you exchanging kisses in between.

He missed you, your laugh and smile especially. It always managed to light up even the darkest situations. It annoyed him at first, but now he knew if you weren’t making a joke out of something, you were really fucked. After a few hours of sitting there and the night was slowly passing, Carol carefully entered the room. “You need anything?” She asked, staying near the door. Daryl turned to her, exhaustion all over his face, and boy she could read him like an open book. She sighed, “Y/N’s probably not going to be up for hours, you should get some rest.” He shook his head. “Not leaving her.” He looked right back at you, in the exact position you had been in for hours, your chest slowly rising and falling with your slow breaths.

Carol asked again if he needed anything, to which he replied “Nah. You should get some sleep.” Carol almost laughed, knowing the two of them probably get the least amount of sleep out of anyone here. She wished him a good night and closed the door, leaving the two of you alone again. The minutes felt like hours, and the hours felt like days. He rested his head next to the space below your hand and next to your body. He still held your hand, and found himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

Morning crept in as slow as ever, and as the sun reached your eyes, you let out a sigh. Your head was pounding, and the last thing you remember was being in that room. Everything felt heavy, but you thanked your lucky stars. You were alive. You wanted to stretch a bit, but you looked down at the figure draped over the side of your bed. He still held you hand. You deeply wished in that moment someone had a camera. Not that this was a moment you wanted to remember forever.

You attempted to speak but your mouth was paper dry, so instead you reached over your other hand and gently ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a small grunt in acknowledgment, since that was something you did often. Then it hit him. It was something you did. You were awake.

His head shot up and he stared at you with tired eyes. A million thoughts raced his mind again. He had a million questions, mostly because he knew you were more careful than that, you weren’t one to get injured on runs. “Hey.” was all he could manage. “Hi.” Your voice was raspy. He let go of your hand to crack open a water bottle that was on the floor, handing it to you. You drank as much as you could before handing it back to him. “Thank you.” You said weakly, but sounded more like yourself. His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice. You smiled at him, as wide as you could with the little energy you had. He returned it with a smaller smile, taking your hand again to kiss it about a million times.

“You stayed with me all night?” You asked, looking around the empty room and realized the sun was rising. “Mhm. Had to make sure you were alright.” He replied, still staring at you in disbelief. The image of you slung over Glenn and Rosita’s shoulders haunted his mind. “I think I’m ok.” You reached for your head, softly touching the stitches. You sighed, you deeply hated having stitches. You’ve only had them a few times, but it just grossed you out. You hated being hurt, too, just like Daryl you always wanted to tough it out.

“You should get some sleep.” Daryl said quietly, watching your every move. If you had the strength to laugh, you would’ve. He looked like shit, “You too.” You let out a small giggle. With this, he knew you were going to be okay. His tensed shoulders eased up at the sound of your quiet laughter. “Whatever.” Was all he said, before standing up and began looking for something. You frowned, assuming he was leaving. “Please don’t go.” Your voice was small, but Daryl didn’t turn to you. He was sifting through drawers until he found a small wash cloth that was clean. He returned to your side, laying your head back. “Not going anywhere, sunshine.” He placed the wash cloth over your eyes, blocking the sun out. You smiled, even though you couldn’t see it, he smiled at the sight of you. “I love you.” You said, before puckering up your lips. Daryl rolled his eyes, lovingly of course, before planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Love ya too, now sleep before you give me another heart attack.” His tone shifted on that last bit, it made you realize how scared he was. Your heart broke a bit, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. He returned to the position of sleeping at your side, this time one hand in his and the other draped over his head, you gently rubbing the back of his head till you both drifted off to sleep.

A few days pass and you were back home, just about fully recovered. You were recounting the story of what happened before the explosion when you remembered what you had been doing in that room. “Where’s my pack?” You asked mid-story. Daryl’s eyes squinted, confused at why you asked, but brought you your duffle from the kitchen to the couch. You excitedly unzipped it, holding onto what you had searched for. “I went back in that room because I found these.” You grinned, revealing a half a dozen arrows that you thought would work for Daryl’s crossbow. You handed them to him, letting him inspect the set carefully. He sighed in disbelief “Ya almost died for a couple o’ these?” He asked, still checking the set. You nodded, still beaming at the sight of him.

“Worth it to see that look on your face.” He was so damn happy, he just wouldn’t say it. He had been using the same, maybe four, arrows for two years. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you came across them, buried in a drawer. You remembered it was the last thing you had shoved in your bag before the flash of light. Daryl was afraid to hug you and thank you, the last thing he wanted to do was cause more pain. “Think they’ll work?” You asked as he put them down, along with moving the duffle from between you two. He nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around you. You welcomed the familiar feeling, pulling him into you even closer, resting your chin in the crook of his neck.

“Next time I’ll try harder not to get blown to bits.” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit. He pulled away. “That’d be good.” He agreed, before kissing you. “Thanks, for the set. Ya didn’t have to.” His cheeks were burning because of the gesture you had made. You shrugged. “I wanted to. I’d do it again if it came down to it.” Now, you wouldn’t want to get blown to smithereens again, but arrows were hard to come by, and now every time he used them he’d think of you. “Yea,” he scoffed, “Don’t do that again. Didn’t like sitting there all night thinkin’ I lost ya.” He stared at the ground, blaming himself as usual. The only way to get him to stop, you found, was not feeding into it. You took his face in your hands. “You sat there all night?” You assumed he did, but you weren’t certain. “Mhm, had to see those pretty eyes when they opened.” he blushed and so did you at the compliment. Your heart could’ve exploded right then and there. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” You said quietly, stroking his hair. He shook his head, “Sorry for not being there.” He replied, a sadness cloaking his usually rougher voice. You sighed, knowing damn well he would take the blame no matter what happened. “It’s not on you honey, I’m home. That’s all that matters now.” You stroked your thumbs on his cheeks, hoping to ease his pain. He looked back up at you, his eyes a bit glossy. Your heart sank, “Oh, Daryl.” You threw your arms back around him, pulling him close to you again, this time he held you as if you would disappear into thin air if he let go. You had no idea the state you were in when you had pulled up to those gates a few days ago. You had no idea Daryl thought you had died.

The two of you pulled away after awhile, placing a kiss on his lips before looking him in the eyes again. “Can’t believe I almost got blown up, how dumb was that?” You joked, knowing that was definitely one of Daryl’s thoughts hearing the story. He shook his head, laughing at you. There you were, cracking jokes about nearly dying.

That’s his girl. And there wasn’t another place on earth he’d want to spent his night.

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a/n - let me know your thoughts!! would love to take requests too in my ask <3 thank u for all the love on Boots!!

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can I pls have a 90's Edge x Fem reader where he kisses her back after patching her up and it leads to fluffy smut?

edge x reader

tw : smut smut smut

goodnight pretty girl

it’s been a rough match but you were glad you made it out as a champion.

you were in pain, anyone could tell that. fans cheering for you, at some point they thought you weren’t going to make it due to the amount pain you were feeling from your shoulders down to your back but you all proved them wrong and once you got backstage you couldn’t wait to take a shower and go back to the hotel so you could have a full night of sleep.

before you could reach your car your heard your boyfriend edge calling your name. you were surprised to see him there as he didn’t have any match to attend that night.

“you did great love!” he hugged you and you hugged him back.

“thanks…” you smile as you captured his lips with yours.

“i saw you were in pain back there…does your back hurt?” he asked a little concerned and you nodded “let me drive you back to the hotel so i can take care of you baby” he said before taking the driver seat and speeding to the hotel.

once you were in your hotel room, you let yourself fall on the bed, face between the pillows as edge bursted out laughing seeing your reaction.

“i’m so tired…” you said turning to face him.

“you should probably change yourself into something more comfortable…” he suggested and went to unpack some of his night’s clothes “wear these…you’ll feel better” he said and you thanked him.

you were way past over being shy in front of him so you changed right there, not wanting to move to the bathroom. you felt edge’s eyes on you, watching every move you made but his gaze got stuck on your back, where a few bruises were starting to form.

“hold on baby…” he stopped you before you could wear the long t-shirt he gave you “let me clean your back better, you have some purple bruises that i really don’t like” he said and despite all you wanted to do was sleep you knew you couldn’t say no to him. so you remained in your bra and panties, laying flat on your stomach and you let a few whimper out of your mouth when you felt edge’s hands applying some cream onto your back “this will help you with the pain, you’ll thank me later” he said and you nodded.

his hands massaged your back for a few minutes and when you thought he was over, he laid down to kiss your neck and shoulders, making sure to not hurt the spot where you were in pain.

“you smell amazing baby…” he whispered into your ear making you shiver.

his hands went to un clap your bra and he helped you turning around so you were facing him. his lips connected with your hard nipples and you couldn’t help but moan, try to not scream as you were staying in a very old hotel, knowing that the walls were pretty thin.

his hands moved to remove your panties and he began to undress himself too, remaining both naked.

his fingers went between your already wet folds and he began to play with your clit, knowing how much you loved when he teased you like that.

“please baby…” you moaned.

“someone’s a little impatient” he teased you. you didn’t even have time to reply back that his dick slammed into you in one swift move. he gave you some time to adjust before he began to move inside of you. slowly, taking his time with you, his hands reaching for yours as he trapped them over your head. his lips went to your neck and collarbone, moving to your nipples and gently biting them.

the slow pace he set was killing you, it was making you feel things you’ve never felt before, his cock hitting you in all your right spots.

“oh fuck…” you moaned when you felt his tip hitting right over your g-spot.

“like that?” he asked you and you nodded.

it was different from the old times, he would usually be rough or quick, sensual but not like that and you’ve never that good in your whole life.

it took him only a few thrust so spill himself inside of you and he completely lost it when you clenched hard on his dick, coming all over him.

“are you okay pretty girl?” he asked you when he caught his breath.

“yes…” you slowly opened your eyes and saw his still on top of you, admiring you with so much love that made your heart feel full. his lips went to captured yours in a very sensual and loving kiss.

he moved to the bathroom and took a washcloth just for cleaning you both up. he made sure you drank something, knowing that you probably were dehydrated. he dressed you in his clothes again and tucked you under the covers.

you were already half asleep and he realised that when he saw your eyes fall close.

“goodnight pretty girl” he whispered, kissing your cheek and let you laid your head on his chest.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Meeting Jasper

Jasper Masterlist

Y/N drove down the highway, forest on either side of her for miles. It was pitch black out, with out even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate anything. She had her high beams on, but it didn’t help much. Suddenly, a deer jumped out into the road. Y/N swerved, slamming on the breaks. The deer leapt away to safety. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, about to put her foot back on the gas when another, much larger car slammed into her from the other lane. The sound of metal-on-metal assaulted Y/N’s ears. Her car skidded, right into a tree. Y/N’s head hit the steering wheel, and she was out. The offending driver raced off, engine revving as it surpassed the speed limit.

…

Jasper made his way through the woods, looking for his dinner when he heard it. A terrible, loud scraping metallic sound. His red eyes widened, his head turning to the source of the noise. He scuttled over, seeing a car wrapped around a tree on the other side of the road. Looking both ways, Jasper quickly crept across the road. He examined the interior, seeing a girl in the driver’s seat, nearly unconscious. Jasper bit his lip, he knew his kind and humans didn’t mix well, mostly because of the latter’s fear of the former, but he couldn’t just leave her. She had a nasty cut on her head, possibly from the broken glass everywhere.

…

Y/N stirred to the feeling of being rocked gently, and the sound of footsteps moving quickly. She blinked her eyes open and looked up, trying to make something out aside from the splitting pain in her head. Upon perceiving this pain, she groaned quietly.

“Shh,” a voice soothed, “you’re alright. I know it hurts, but I’m going to help you.”

The paramedics must have found her, that would explain why there were so many footsteps- it must be a whole team. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord.

…

When Y/N woke properly, she felt a gentle pressure on her head, and surprisingly, very little pain. She had been laid down on a soft surface, and she heard someone rummaging through something. She opened her eyes and sat up, though the action sent a wave of dizziness through her.

“Huh?” she mumbled.

Instead of an ambulance or a hospital room, she seemed to be in some kind of cave. On every wall of the cave, there were giant spider webs. Lanterns hung from some of the webs, illuminating the space with a dim glow. She looked down and noticed that she was laying in some kind of web hammock.

“HUH!?” she repeated, much more panicked this time.

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice echoed.

Y/N whipped her head around (ouch) and saw something from her nightmares. The upper half of a human… with the lower half of a giant spider. Y/N couldn’t help what happened next… she screamed. A loud, ear-splitting shriek while she attempted to clamber out of the hammock. Unfortunately, she only managed to tangle herself up in it.

The creature held its clawed hands up in a placating gesture. It stepped over the first aid kit it had been rummaging through, and approached Y/N slowly.

“My name is Jasper,” the creature said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/N’s breaths came in short gasps. There were many things in this world she was prepared to deal with, but spiders- especially human-spider hybrids- were not one of them. She tried to wrangle herself out of the hammock, but her leg was quite caught up.

“Please stop, you’ll rumple your bandages and pull your stitches,” Jasper said gently.

Bandages? Y/N put a hand to her head. Those weren’t bandages- those felt like thick, stringy webs! There was more webbing on her arms and legs. She was going to be spider-dinner! Y/N continued to struggle, as Jasper inched closer and closer. Eventually, he closed the distance between them and gripped her by the shoulders. Y/N froze in fear.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t have you hurting yourself,” Jasper sighed, “hold still.”

Jasper tilted Y/N’s neck and bit right into it, depositing his venom into her system. Y/N’s breath hitched; she immediately lost feeling in her entire body. Her breaths still came in short and fast, but she couldn’t scream anymore- she couldn’t move anymore!

“There, now let me have a look at you.”

Jasper examined Y/N’s web wrappings and tutted. Red seeped through the one wrapped around her head.

“I’ll have to redo the stitches,” he sighed.

Jasper untangled the hammock and laid Y/N back inside it. He went to the first aid kit and grabbed a needle and thread, returning to her. He pulled off the webbing on Y/N’s forehead and hissed in sympathy.

“Looks pretty bad,” he said, “I do wish you hadn’t panicked.”

Jasper made short work of the cut, stitching it back up neatly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Y/N whimpered as the needle slid in and out of her skin.

“Shh, all done,” Jasper said, casting his tools aside.

Jasper considered Y/N for a moment.

“I can’t have you running off as soon as the venom wears off,” he thought aloud, “I don’t want to scare you… but…”

Jasper spewed webbing from his mouth and began to wrap Y/N snugly in webbing. By the time he was finished, only her head and neck were exposed. Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes, and she whimpered quietly. Jasper gently laid her back down in the hammock.

“Try to rest,” he said, “I’ve given you painkillers already, but I’ll have more for you in a few hours.”

…

Jasper scurried off to the front of his cave. He paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t just let the poor thing go, she was injured, probably concussed, and he didn’t need her running off to the other humans to tell them all where he lived. He glanced back inside his cave. Well, she was pretty cute… maybe he could keep her?

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[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

After your car breaks down on you unexpectedly in the middle of the night, you're left with no choice but to call the only number left available to you... Ghost.

NFSW 18+ Shameless Smut, Porn w/ Plot, P in V sex, Intimate, Steamy Makeout, Build-Up, Banter, Drama, Flirting, Seducing, Dry-Humping, Romance, Hatemance, Enemies to Lovers Trope, Cheating, Toxic Relationship, Light Angst, Characters are Flawed, Ghost and Reader are mean to each other, however things start to change, can be read like a one-shot, but reads better with context

WC: 6.1k~

Author's Note: I finally finished this chapter! Personally, I like how it came out and I like where it's going so far. Since the hatemance has been established, the only way to go is up, right? Please let me know what you think though! And please enjoy~

Masterlist

NGMLTS Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Six

"Come on, come on, come on-"

You step forward towards the edge of the road, making sure not to accidentally step 5 inches deep into another puddle of rain water. There, your eyes catch sight of another pair of car headlights on the fast approach in the distance.

Its florescent glow expands like tiny, white orbs within the black of night, speeding by ever closer each passing second.

Perfect timing.

You stick your thumb out, using your other hand to try and wave down the approaching vehicle.

"Hey!" You call out, as though they can hear you over the sound of their own vehicle. The growing sounds of trees around you blowing in the wind like it were trying to conjure up a tornado hadn't helped either. "Hey, I could use some-"

The car zips by, carrying a gust of wind which insultingly hits you on its departure. You scoff to yourself, watching their red tail-lights slowly disappear down the road, and suddenly you're reminded of the predicament you'd just found yourself in.

That's the fourth car that's driven past you since your car unexpectedly decided to take a shit on you halfway through on your drive home.

Deep down you knew you should have just had your date pick you up from the jump; your car being a piece of shit had been a secret to absolutely no one. Just three weeks ago, the damn thing died on you in the parking lot on your way home from work. However, you've had one too many experiences with being trapped at someone's place without a vehicle to know it's best to be your own ride home.

Or that would normally be the case.

Honestly you wished you'd just Ubered now that you're outside, stranded on some empty road too far from town to walk but just far out enough to be an inconvenient for anyone willing to come get you, in the dead of night at that. But at least it had stopped raining.

Its residue still remains on the dark roads. You knew you had been out far in the boonies just from the lack of streetlights, seeing how pitch black your surroundings had been. It almost felt like a wall of sorts, some sort of abyss, boxing you in. It makes you feel like you're being watched (even though you're absolutely not).

Still, it motivates you to step back into your car, settling into your driver's seat with a frustrated huff.

By now, the remainder of the car's heat had been zapped out, all its interior lights completely dead. Some false sense of hope drives you to try and twist your key in the ignition once more, only to have your dreams retroactively crushed once you see the key completely stuck in its hole, just as it had been for the past forty minutes now.

It brings you to check your messages another time. You'd all but gone through your contact list trying to find someone that could come get you; that tends to happen when it's 1am.

You called your date first, seeing as he would be the closest to you and it hadn't been like you'd left on bad terms.

One month, now that you think about it. You hadn't noticed the time flying by, though it's not to say your time together had been anything remarkable. Just a change to your usual FWB and one-night stand order. He liked taking you out on nice dates and you liked going back to his place to fuck, and seeing he wasn't insufferable, it worked, for now.

However, his ringer had gone straight to voicemail when you called. At first you questioned why that could have been, but then you'd remembered him mentioning his phone being on the verge of death in the midst of the movie you'd been "watching". It crossed him out all the same.

Soap and Price were some of the least reliable men to reach at night, though it had only been because they valued their sleep, and did so like professionals. You weren't surprised in the slightest when they hadn't picked up.

You didn't even bother calling Gaz; the man didn't have a car. And every other one of your friends was either too far away for it to be worth the drive or just unavailable. By the time you'd called the last name listed on your lifeline and it didn't pick up, the hopelessness started to bubble up again.

But then you remembered one other person you could call, someone you're sure wouldn't even bother... if he even picks up.

Ghost.

The phone sits in your hand, purposefully procrastinating, as your eyes toiled on his contact name on your phone. Reluctant.

There's really no way he would pick up; he'd all but made it clear to you that he'd rather do without your being around him as is. What makes you think he'd want to get out of bed in the middle of the night for you?

And yet, your gaze lingered on his number.

Who else was there, if not him?

You slowly dial in his number, nausea swirling in your stomach at each press, until you've heard the phone begun to ring.

You place the cool glass to your face, listening to the other line ring, awaiting to hear that familiar automotive voice message system of his.

However, the air catches in your throat when you've actually heard the other line pick up, sounds of covers shifting and a man's heavy sigh filling in this period of silence that's gone on far too long for you.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?"

You roll your eyes, sinking back into your seat as you settled in for this conversation. Welp, you called him, and here he is. Time to deal with that.

"I had no idea," you say sarcastically.

"Should probably buy a watch then," he teases.

"You offering?"

"No."

You can't help but do anything else other than smack your lips together in response. "I'll just keep doin' me then, boo," you say.

"A shock to no one, I imagine." You hear Ghost groan gruffly on the other end, clearly having been in bed. "So what then? Your date end poorly or somethin'?"

While he had been making a jab at you, his words were more revealing than he realized. Clearly, he'd still been thinking about you, despite wanting to act like you'd been the one bothering him right now.

It makes you giggle under your breath, though you're loud enough for him to hear. "It went great actually," you say. "He really knows how to wine and dine a girl down."

"No doubt letting a man actually treat you like a woman for a change is a new experience for you," Ghost remarks.

"Guess it just took finding the right guy for the job," you remark back. "He's got you on a run for your money, Manchester."

The right guy, meaning anyone but Ghost, he'd imagined. Not in any tangible way beyond whatever lust-filled mistakes you two continuously shared between each other.

Ghost pauses for a moment. You know your comment had gotten to him somewhat. Though he spares little time for you to rejoice in it.

"He can have it," he says coldly. "We're done, remember?"

You're not sure why, but hearing him say that to you yet again -- with not a heartbeat to spare, it only seemed to make your own heart run a bit colder.

Ghost only continues, his patience having run thin since talking. "Why are you calling?"

You hesitate to speak at first, your pride already having been bruised just having to call him to begin with. You sigh lightly to yourself, regaining your composure and cutting right to the chase. After all, what reason was there to be nervous? This was only Manchester.

"I need your help," you say plainly. "My car broke down and I'm in the middle of nowhere. I tried calling literally anyone else... but you're the only one who's actually answered. So... look, if you don't want to, just tell me now so I can call someone else, alright?"

Silence.

You have to look down at your phone to see if the man had hung up on you suddenly; it wouldn't have surprised you. But no, he'd still been on the other line, merely existing with his tightly shut lips.

After some more seconds have gone by, you've found the silence has driven you mad.

"Look, just forget-"

"Where are you now?"

That's not what you were expecting to hear. His words stop you dead in your tracks, your heart beginning to race once you finally had a plan in motion.

You sit up in your seat, already typing in Ghost's address into your Google Maps so you could get a good estimate of how long you'd be waiting. You wanted to cry when you saw the double digits, and nearly did when you read that 27 minute drive time.

You hum to yourself, trying not to sound too disappointed as you spoke.

"Well..." You sigh. "...It's not close."

"How far are we talking?"

What is he doing right now? He's been asking himself that questions since he tied the laces to his boots and slipped into his hoodie on the way out the door. He must look like a fool right now, he's sure.

Seven miles out had been how far you were from his place. Evidently, by the 4th mile out, Ghost had started to grow somewhat ticked off (seeing as it was now almost 2 am), but alas, he'd already been in his car and this far out, so there was no point in complaining about it now. Though he still couldn't believe he was doing it.

The night air feels good rushing through his open window. The icy wind scraps by him, leaving his pale cheeks a rosier pink, his short blond hair thrown about, and his knuckles a cold white, with the speeding swishing sounds of his car rushing down this long, empty road.

Ghost brought his balaclava with him (he had an extra one tucked away in his glove box), knowing he'll have to put it on once he's picked you up. Until then, however, he'd enjoy the freeing sensation of the wind against his skin, as it's the only thing reminding him that he is in fact driving to come get you right now and not just dreaming this.

He knew the smart thing would have been to say no. Ghost didn't trust himself almost as much as he didn't trust you not to try and escalate something out of this situation. That's how things always happen between you two after all. And yet... here he is on the road now. He'd ask himself what that was about, but he knew himself well enough.

Your car starts to come into view of his headlights on the side of the road, as Ghost has felt walls in him begin to form themselves, preparing for your presence.

He pulls his car behind you, quickly digging in his glove box and retrieving his balaclava before exiting the vehicle. It may be dark, but even then, he wasn't about to let you see him exposed so soon. Not like this, anyhow.

"There you are!" You step out of the car, dramatically swinging your arms out before slamming your door shut behind you. "You take the scenic route?"

"And I got gas," he adds.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as a cool breeze brisks by. "Of course you did."

Ghost looks you up and down unabashedly, seeing the attire you'd chosen to wear for your date tonight -- some outfit that wasn't too skimpy, but still left a lot for a man to crave more for. He can only imagine how much your date must have enjoyed himself with you tonight... it's started to make his chest tight just thinking about it.

"I didn't want to call you," you say all of a sudden. However, when you've seen the look he gives you after hearing that, it makes you soften up somewhat. It had sounded rather harsh out loud, didn't it? So you then sigh, "I wasn't sure you were gonna answer..."

Ghost sighs, the man simmering down now having seen you become more lax. Though he doesn't say anything. He wasn't quite sure what to say, because he would have answered if you called him. He did. Yet, admitting so out loud would make that something more real than what he was willing to admit. So he stays quiet.

You do your best to bring things back to ground level between you two. However, whether it be because you'd meant to do so, or just did not care for the weight of your words, you go on with your small tangent.

"I called Soap first," you say. "Then I tried Price after that."

"Ah," Ghost says dryly. "I'm well aware that I'm the afterthought."

"Maybe so, but... I called you still, didn't I?"

"And I still came," Ghost says.

You've paused for a moment, and your voice is softer than any tone he's heard from you before. It puts him on edge and makes his heart feel caught in his throat.

"Yeah, well..." You say. "Thank you."

Funny. He's never actually heard you say thank you to him before, and it's got him more giddy than he thought he would be.

"Don't worry about it." He approaches your vehicle now, taking a closer look. "So what's wrong with it?"

"I don't fucking know," you sigh frustratedly. "I've already taken the damn thing in for repairs three fucking times already and it still keeps doing this. I'm just sick of this fucking thing at this point-"

You kick your tire out of frustration, only to have the tips of your toes connect roughly with stiff, cold, rubber, your foot doing nothing to even make a bulge to it on impact. Immediately you yelp, though you tone it down, so as not to embarrass yourself in front of the lieutenant. No doubt he was in need of some more material to use against you at work later.

Of course, he can see that you're frustrated by the situation, and rightfully so, he thought. He never liked having car problems himself.

"Need me to jump it then?" he asks.

"You can try."

And try he does. The man's come prepared, having cables already packed away in his trunk for situations like this, having been here before. You step to the side and let him contend with things, assisting wherever needed, and sharing no other words beyond trying to fix the situation.

Once the cables were all attached to the batteries and his car was running, it didn't take long for the silence between you two to become defeaning.

You both stood leaning against your cars, staring off into the surrounding woods. Lost in separate thoughts that somehow always led you back to one another.

You kept looking over at him, taking quick glances with your peripherals. He kept his gaze ahead, not having wanted to look at you too much. Each time he did, he felt something stir in him that he hadn't wanted.

But for the first time in maybe ever between you two, it's Ghost who breaks silence before you.

"Have you thought about Friday?"

Naturally, it would be about work.

The word Friday brings a reaction out of you, reminding you of things you didn't yet wish to think about. This Friday. The day you and Ghost will be sent out on a month-long assignment together. Alone...

It wasn't like you two haven't fought together before; often times the others thought you made a great duo, in fact. Combatively, that is. If it wasn't his swift and collected movements on the battlefield, then it was your own cunning creativity which often gave the team the edge they needed.

As a whole team, it was easy to work with him -- you couldn't bicker if there were a million different things to pull your attention. But you wouldn't be with the team this time. It would just be the two of you now, a feet which had NEVER been done before.

You sigh again, hugging your arms to yourself to keep warmth.

"Don't really want to think about it, if I'm being honest."

"Will you be ready?" He asks.

"I'm always ready, Manchester," you jest. "What about you? Are you ready to be stuck with me for a month?"

Dryly, Ghost says, "I'm jumpin' for joy just thinkin' about it."

You chuckle at his comment, which surprises him, for some reason. Normally, your low giggles felt weighted with teasing mockery. However, the lilt to your voice now had been something more... welcoming.

And seemingly, you've noticed it's made Ghost somewhat more chatty than usual, given his silence earlier.

"So your date..." he unintentionally lets his words begin to drag. "You said it went well earlier?" He now asks, no longer caring how the question might come off to you. A simple answer would only suffice.

However, he already knows he can't ask questions like that without bringing the she-devil out in you.

"Mmm," you hum. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Ghost groans. "Forget it."

You're silent for a moment, and it makes Ghost think the end of that conversation. Though, you spend the time thinking, weighing between talking or silence.

"My date went fine," you say to him. "We didn't really do much. Nothing worth talking about anyway."

Ghost crosses his arms now, looking down at his feet rather bashfully, kicking a small pebble that had been rested at his boot.

"So do you like him?"

"He's alright," you say. "He's real sweet. Super understanding; I've never met such an open-minded guy before. Except for Soap maybe..."

You unknowingly begin to go on about this mystery man from before, describing him in delightful detail, all of which seemed to contrast with Ghost.

"I've never had a guy do that for me before." You said more than once, and Ghost was sure it had been true. After all, he hasn't necessarily been kind to you to begin with. Hearing now the differences it would have made only made him wonder of the what if's.

By the end of your small tangent, he'd felt your point had been made clear enough. But then you end everything you've just gone on about -- the compliments, the ups, and highs -- with a final comment.

"...Though... I don't see this lasting long."

He can't deny, that had actually excited him to hear, even as it doesn't make sense to him. Though he covers it under his usual, husky voice he wielded so dangerously. "Why's that?"

You look like you want to tell him the truth. You almost do, but it hadn't been a matter of pettiness as to why you don't quite answer the man. You instead shrug, keeping this nonchalant attitude you desperately wanted him to see you for.

"I don't know," you say. "He's kinda boring."

Ghost chuckles. "Boring?"

"He's just a bit too... simple for me? It's hard to explain."

"Not toxic enough for you, you mean?"

You laugh under your breath, having found some humor in his jab. "Maybe," you admit, sarcastically so. "Maybe I need a little screaming and petty arguments in my life. It just makes everything feel so much more... passionate."

Ghost just shakes his head. "You say that now."

You begin to smirk. "I don't know," you turn to look at him. "You must like that stuff too, Manchester."

"I don't," he says.

"Bullshit," you laugh. "Admit it, you eat this toxic shit up."

"You're wrong," he says. "I loathe it. It's unbecoming."

"If that's how you feel, then what were you doing fucking around with me then?"

It's a valid question, one that makes the man grow silent. What had it been about you that often turned him from his better judgment? It couldn't have just been the sex. No. Otherwise, it wouldn't burden him so much to know you thought of other men so much more highly than him, half of which being of his own doing.

Unsure of how to answer you, the man simply says to you, "I don't know."

The silence comes quickly, but it is felt by you both. Had another car not driven by to break this sudden trance, perhaps this conversation would have gone further. You both wondered as such, even as you wouldn't say so out loud. But it's the longest you've spoken without insulting each other. That significance would not be lost.

Eventually, your car managed to turn on, its dim lights twitching back to life amidst the night. Having not wanted to be put in a situation where he'd have to turn around, Ghost volunteered to follow you back home in his car. That way, if you broke down on the road again he could at least drive you back home himself.

You had been more than grateful enough to thank him again once your car had been running, smiling in ways you've not done toward him before in the past. In those moments, it had been easy to forget about all of that, having felt himself smile back beneath his mask, from time to time.

The drive back to your place is a short one, the roads having been empty, given how late it was. Ghost follows you to your driveway, watching you park at a small, one-story home you'd recently gotten on post. He remembers his way here without your guidance, having come here on his own so many times now. He'd even picked out a spot in your driveway he liked to pull into -- that same spot beneath the tall tree in your front yard.

Now that you were home, Ghost remained in his car, prepared to see you wave him goodbye before pulling out. However, you do no such thing, instead exiting your vehicle, and approaching his window.

He rolls it down, giving you a curious look. "Something the matter?"

"Wanna come in for a quick smoke?"

No, he thought. He should say no. He already told you he was putting an end here to this. An end to this toxic game of back-and-forth romance. What kind of man would he be if he could not keep his word with something as simple as this?

He would only be a man, and a human one at that.

Ghost has already stepped out of his car and followed you over to the entrance of your home. And just as he expected -- as he had feared and wanted -- once inside, having heard the front door shut behind him and the faint sensation of your body brush by towards your living room, he knew this wouldn't just be a quick smoke.

It started out with the two of you on your couch. The minute he sat down he felt the late hours start to hit him like a tidal wave, his eyes having grown droopy and tired. You looked the same, your movements having slowed since arriving home. Though it hadn't made you any less chatty.

In between grabbing a lighter and a pack of smokes for you two (a transaction that took you five minutes to do), you both gossiped about work. Ghost always knew you were a scandalous sort, however, it had shocked you seeing how willing the lieutenant had been to participate in the conversation. He had a lot more to say than you would have thought, in fact.

Once the cigarettes were lit, things only grew more random, Ghost feeling the urge to ask you the oddest hypotheticals he could think of off the top of his head. He had been serious when asking too, judging your answers, and providing his own afterward.

And while you two couldn't put it into words, at the moment, this had felt good to have.

You sink back into the couch, having finished your cigarette, and felt that final headrush. You enjoy it. You enjoy this.

You look to the left of you to see Ghost, his large body having sunken the couch down so much that your legs couldn't help but rest against his boulderous thighs. His mask is lifted, and his scarred lips finish off his cigarette. He blows the smoke out in front of him, as his eyes stay forward. And all the while, his body has felt every bit of your presence near him.

"Why don't we ever do this?" you ask suddenly.

Ghost looks your way, finding your eyes. "Do what?" He asks, his voice a low and raspy thing, vibrating through your whole body.

"This," you gesture around you. "Actually sit down and talk like this."

"You're not usually the best company," he says.

You pout. "Have you been around "you" before, Manchester?"

"I know the bloke pretty well, actually," Ghost jokes.

You scoff, a smile curving on your lips. "Then you know that he's an asshole a lot of the time."

"I do know that," he admits.

His honesty catches you off guard. You had been prepared to say something witty back too. Now it wouldn't work quite as well, his response spinning your mind in a curious way.

Ghost speaks before you, having been digesting this conversation in full himself. "To answer your question," he says. "I saw no point in trying to talk to you like this. You didn't like me. That much had been made clear, so I didn't bother. "

"So... you didn't wanna talk to me or be my friend," you say. "Yet you'll fuck me. That checks out."

Now you catch him off guard with that comment, watching his jaw tighten. It does so even more when he sees the little laugh you let out in response after.

"I'd doubt we'd make good friends anyway," you sigh.

"What makes you say that?" Ghost asks.

"It just wouldn't work," you say, and then start to grin. "We'd just keep wanting to fuck each other, I feel like. That or kill each other, whatever comes first."

"Wha', you can't fuck your friends?" Ghost jokes, feeling parts of himself bubble joyously when he sees you laugh.

"Not if you want to stay friends."

And there it was that Ghost almost felt the words leave his lips, the question and the answer. Who said you two had to stay as friends? Who says this has to stay as anything?

"Well..." he thinks to himself, looking down at his lap, as he lets his callous thumbs rub softly over his rough palms. He's now noticed your legs resting against his thigh, and how close you've been this entire time, your body heat having felt as cozy as a blanket to sit beside. "We haven't fucked tonight."

You smirk. "We haven't been at each other's throats all night, either," you lightly cheer. "A new record."

"This make us friends then?"

Ghost notices your leg shift, as you invite them to rest on his lap, his arms having nowhere else to lie but on top of them. Having them hugged so close to him, feeling your calves shift over his crotch (purposefully he's sure), quickly started to fog his mind of any previous thoughts he now had.

You watch his gaze follow your legs, traveling up slowly, making their way up your torso, past your chest and to your neck, then stopping on your lips, which you've licked into a playful smile. His dark eyes finally find yours, and he sees that familiar look in them. The look of trouble.

"I can't be your friend, Manchester."

"Why?" he asks again, his voice low, humming through you and making your body ache for him.

"I already told you why," you say cooly. "I want to fuck you too much to be your friend, Simon."

"Well, I already told you we can't."

"Then what's your hand doing?"

Indeed, this whole time you've let his voice soothe you, words be damned, you've felt his large hands slowly slide their way up your thigh, fingers grazing you roughly, craving to feel the flesh of you beneath your clothes.

His hand pauses at the brink of your hip, his body having leaned in more since doing so. It's pressed you more against the couch, your body slowly being caged by him.

Despite his actions, his eyes look at you with frustration, a million thoughts running through him. You were driving him mad, and he couldn't get enough of it.

You merely watch his eyes drop back down to your lips, and you smile. You lift your hand up, bringing it to his collar and letting your finger hook beneath the fabric. Your smile widens as you've felt his throat swallow against the gentle graze of your finger, his mask still having been lifted up to his nose, and his breath tickling your skin. You slowly pull him closer.

He doesn't even resist, his body moving along to your guiding hand, until his face had only been an inch or so from you, his eyes half-lidded and lost.

Despite the confidence you let off, your heart raced furiously in your chest. This hadn't felt anything like your times before, where the banter had been short, seeing as the real reasons for it were often carried out in swift succession. This had felt slow. Intimate. You had his mouth so close to you, and it kept buzzing in your mind, the whole thing that had him not wanting to do this from the start. The reason for this reluctancy. Some jealousy and measly lipstick.

"Kiss me," you say.

You swear you can hear his heart beating through his chest, watching the gears shift in his head and feeling the bulge in his pants start to brush against your leg. Rather than let him come to his own conclusion, you do the thinking for him, pulling him down by the collar and guiding his mouth to yours.

The second your lips touch his, it's as though no other actions mattered to him beyond having all of you right here and now.

Ghost kisses you roughly, letting his hands cup over your face and his body completely cover you, arms caging you in like a prison. The weight of his body takes your breath away, making you gasp into his mouth, as you've felt him grind himself against you. By now, his cock was already resting painfully so in his jeans, and you've felt him take that pain out with each gruff thrust he made against you. The second your lips have parted, his tongue has entered in, massaging itself against yours as though to have the complete taste of you with him.

As his lips did their absolute best lapping away at your mouth, the lower half of himself humped between your legs furiously, parting them at every motion and leaving you throbbing from each brief departure. You can't help but do anything other than hug your arms over him, hugging him close and letting your lips keep pace with him.

His body feels every bit of your hands run against his chest, hooking around his neck and lacing beneath his mask to feel his hair. Your legs hook around his waist naturally, hips jirating against his just as ravenously, as though you'd been craving him all day. The smallest of movements you make send him deeper into a passionate frenzy, turning the man near primal.

You wanted every bit of him right now just as much as he had wanted every part of you -- it had the man completely drunk in you. Large hands cupped so firmly over your cheeks as he kissed you that you felt consumed by him, neither of you having spared a breath away. His hands slide down your neck, making their way to your breast and aggressively groping them, reminding himself of the parts of you that you allowed him to misbehave himself with. The parts of yourself that would always be his.

He thumbs your nipples through your shirt, letting his fingers roll against them, and feeling your chest rise with each moan that it conjures. Your lips part again, your voice like ecstasy to him. He'd stay like this forever if he could. That's truly how he felt at this moment.

After a while, he couldn't keep himself from slipping his hand beneath your shirt, finally feeling the warmth of your body against his skin, before retaking your breast in your hand to continue his work.

By now you've kissed each other raw, your dry-humping having grown vigorous and hot in nature; the room filled with your heavy panting and his low grunts. Ghost's hips viciously pulsate against you, the bulge of his cock bumping in just the right amount of friction against your clit to the point that you hadn't even needed to feel him inside you to feel yourself soaking through your pants. Having felt it only made him press harder against you, as the man made an equal mess of himself.

It had felt difficult casting you aside with you so ready to have him every time you've graced his presence. Ghost knows he was making a mistake, letting you play with his emotions, but good God did you make him feel good when you wanted him to. You drip-feed him that lustful attention you give away so carelessly, and Ghost took each drop with begrudging starvation.

Your hands continue to curve behind his neck, your fingers teetering at the edges of his masks and keeping him pulled in. They touch the most sensitive parts of the skin behind his ears, parts of him that haven't been touched by anyone in years. Your fingers continue to slowly glide their way up, gently pushing his mask up more and more.

Almost as though to distract you from continuing with that action, his hands shoot down to your pants, as he's no longer able to hold himself back from you. He pries them from you, throwing both that and your panties to the floor, before lowering his own jeans down.

His massive length rested against your pussy heavy, almost like a veiny leg of its own, the man rubbing and smacking himself against you to his heart's content, groaning gruffly to himself each time. He grabs onto your legs, hooking them over your arms and letting your feet rest over his shoulders, as he pushes your knees back to your ears, preparing your body for a vicious pounding.

With no hesitation, once he's settled his body over you, he drives his cock in, his girth stretching you uncomfortably as he pushes himself so deep that he's felt his balls smack against you. The second he's felt you clench around him, your legs tightening over his body, and your lips parting with a sharp hiccup-like gasp, he lets himself go into his favorite mind-numbing pace with you.

Ghost fucks you into the couch, his cock smacking in and out of you with barely a second reprieve. Each time you've felt he might slow down, he only goes faster, making sure to hear the visceral sounds which left your cunt at each thrust, squeezing an orgasm from you that he's felt shake your entire body against him.

Yet feeling your orgasm hadn't been enough, it would never be enough. He kept the pace going even after, wanting to feel every breath that left you be wrapped in him, and every thump of your heart against his chest be because of him.

Through the sheer mayhem, he put both your body and mind in right now, you bring your hands back up to his face, returning his gaze to you. With your eyes locked, you can make out every detail, every feeling you each had harbored, both the good and the bad. He would have all of you, and you would have all of him.

"I don't want this to stop, Simon," you pant out.

Ghost finds himself at a loss for words, having replied to you in his head, and carried it out through action instead. He brings his lips down to you, kissing you once again, and making sure that you could feel every part of his reply through the taste of him.

His arms hug across you tightly, the quick and brutal rhythm he had growing erratic and desperate. He groans against your lips as he's cum in you, feeling himself pulsate against the deepest parts of you.

Ghost doesn't move from on top of you, having buried his face in the crook of your neck and wrapped his arms over you. You lie beneath him, your own arms wrapped lazily over him, hugging him against you like a weighted blanket, simply holding his heaving body to your own. You rest your cheek against the crown of his head, your eyes looking up to your ceiling as you've both now felt the dreariness of the night finally hit you.

You both pant, out of breath, now left with the uncertainty of what would be tomorrow. For once, you don't say anything to break the silence. You just let him lay there, and you do too. It would be morning soon enough.

Read Part Six Here!

My goal here is to start turning a toxic relationship into a maybe not so toxic relationship. It's gotta start somewhere. I just want to write about flawed individuals (it's nice feeling seen lol). But, I hope the dialogue worked, I really liked it. But anywho, that's it with my rambling.

@deadbranch @homicidal-slvt @argella1300 @poohkie90 @sarraa-26 @quincessimus @cabreezer0117 @glitterypirateduck @0-444-4444 @crazymela @13thprogenitor

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged/untagged for the next part! If I'm not told, I won't tag because I feel like an instigator! Thank you, uwu

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU

yeah you read that right - check out the tag I'm just following the brilliance of @cicada-candy and @wazzappp

At first, Robbie thinks he must be dead. He drove straight into a wall at forty miles per hour, by all means he should be dead.

This is like the fourth time you’re having this freak out, the snake mutters, coiling around the steering wheel. It flicks the wipers on with his tail, the blades struggling to scrape off the black substance covering the windshield. A ghostly body slowly evaporates from the hood.

Robbie blinks. He’s on the other side of the building, as if he drove right through it. When he looks over his shoulder, through the miraculously intact rear window, all he can see is a solid brick wall of the warehouse.

See? The snake hisses. He sounds incredibly smug. Told ya it would work. I think you got them—

Just to hammer down how rarely the snake is right about anything, he’s interrupted by a loud bang on the roof of the car. It’s promptly followed by manic scratching, like the ghost is trying to claw its way in.

Well, shit, the snake observes. You’re gonna have to get out to deal with this one.

“Like hell I’m getting out.” Robbie turns the key in the ignition to start the car again, the engine rumbling to life with a shower of pink sparks on the dashboard, because this is his life now, apparently. When he tries to step on the gas, he ends up jamming the ridiculous heel of his boots into the floor. “These fucking boots—” He tries again, only for his foot to slip right off the pedal. “Come on!”

The scratching intensifies. It’s gonna take the paint off! The snake shouts, like that isn’t a mind-boggling event all of it’s own. Get the hell out and kick its ass!

“You think I can stand in these?!” Robbie nearly broke his leg running back to the car when the ghosts attacked him outside the auto shop. Just because injuries don’t seem to stick when he’s in this stupid fucking outfit doesn’t mean he wants to try that again, much less kick anything. Inches above his head, the ghost shrieks in rage.

How hard can it be?! It’s just shoes! Women do it all the time!

“Not without– training, or something!”

The next warehouse is only a few meters away, and Robbie is an excellent driver, but he’s not exactly flying under the best conditions right now. If he can’t control the car, he’s going to end up–

A set of hooked talons breaks through the passenger window, the half-melted ghostly face lowering itself down after it. His options rapidly diminishing, Robbie grabs one of the bedazzled white hammers he ends up holding after every transformation and throws it at the creature, hitting it right in the nose. It wails in pain, but doesn’t stop it’s torturous crawl inside.

Get the other hammer! Don’t just throw it, keep hitting it!

Robbie does. He’s dimly aware he’s screaming the entire time, the black blood spraying out of the ghost and onto his white gloves, but eventually the ghost goes limp. It gives one last forlorn moan before dissolving into nothing. Robbie waits a couple of seconds, struggling to catch his breath, before he risks sticking his head through the broken window to see if this was the last one.

No more ghosts. The night is quiet again, the colours returning back to their regular L.A. light pollution levels. He falls back into the driver seat heavily, chin against his chest, which puts him in the inconvenient position of staring right down at the pink fucking gem embedded in his sternum.

On top of everything else, why does it have to be this violently pink?

That could’ve gone worse, the snake slithers across the dashboard to audit the damage to the window. Don’t turn back yet, the glass will repair itself in a few minutes.

“Why can’t it do that when I’m normal?” he mutters. He doesn’t want to be wearing a dress for a moment longer than it’s strictly necessary.

It’s just faster this way, quit whining.

Just to add insult to injury, the gunk doesn’t disappear with all the other magical shit. At least it looks more like motor oil than anything else – it’s enough of a pain to clean it up every time without someone calling the cops because Robbie keeps leaving dark alleyways covered in actual blood. With a sigh, he reaches under the seat to retrieve the paper towels and the disinfectant. It’s easier if he wipes it off right away.

Someone clears their throat outside. The snake shoots his head up, instantly wary, while Robbie ducks down – the last thing he wants is for anyone to see him like this, ghost blood notwithstanding.

“Hi,” he hears, before the crunch of gravel closing in on the car. “That wasn’t half bad.”

Robbie turns back around just in time for a blonde man in a leather jacket to lean down to peer through his window. He looks remarkably unfazed by having witnessed someone hammer thin air into submission, although he does look a little surprised when he takes in Robbie’s whole… thing. He gestures for him to roll down the window, and Robbie does, mostly out of sheer confusion.

There’s a motorcycle parked a few meters behind him. How long has he been here?

“Uh,” the man takes a second to collect himself. “Damn, sorry, I thought you were an actual girl.”

Robbie’s going to grow an entire beard as soon as he gets out of here.

He’s a witness, the snake hisses. You need to get rid of him.

“Hey, now,” the man protests. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You can hear him?” Robbie asks dumbly, pointing at the snake. “Did you–see? All that?”

The man inspects his nails while he talks. They’re painted flame-bright orange. It doesn’t really fit his general biker aesthetic, and Robbie feels something like hope kindle low in his chest.

“I think you and I should have a conversation,” the man says. Then, as if a hilarious joke just occurred to him, grins and adds: “Magical girl to magical girl.”

[scriberye]

      ➥  König/Ghost x Reader    |    2020    |    Ao3

⚠️🔞 Canon Typical Violence, Fluff, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Implied Character Death, Gender-Neutral Reader Dire situation prompt fills for Ghost x Reader x König. One is Ghost x König. NSFW fills are at the bottom and marked if you want to avoid them. a/n: prompts from here. header art by @ave661.

[ HIDE ] sender and receiver hide from a threat together

The prank may have gone too far.

Ghost is on the warpath, and you and König have squished yourselves together in a closet hoping to escape his wrath. You cling to one another, trying to remain quiet as you listen to Ghost stomping around the house shouting your names.

“When I get my hands on you two — !”

He sounds closer, but not enough for you to worry — until the noise stops. It goes quiet. König’s grip on you tightens, pulling you up against his chest. You both wait with bated breath, straining to hear any more sounds, hoping Ghost moved again. There’s nothing though. Only the sound of yours and König’s heavy breathing and racing hearts.

The closet doors fly open and Ghost’s shadow looms over, “Found you two.”

You both scream.

[ GETAWAY ] sender acts as a getaway driver for receiver

König kicks the door of the building open, marching out with a silver case tucked under one arm and his gun held aloft in the other. The area appears free of any enemy combatants. He remains cautious though, hugging the wall of the warehouse as he makes his way closer to the road.

“Ghost, I need a lift.”

The radio crackles to life. “Copy. I’m heading your way.”

He hunkers down, scanning around for any threats as he waits. It doesn't take long for Ghost to reach him. The unfamiliar-looking vehicle comes barreling down the road, tires screeching as it skids to a stop in front of him.

Ghost leans across the seats, shoving open the side door.

“Took you long enough.” König teases, squeezing himself into the cramped passenger seat, setting the case on the backseat. The front of the car is smeared in blood.

“Ran into some traffic.”

“Ran into or ran over?”

“Same shite. Put your seatbelt on.”

[ MEDIC ] sender arrives on receiver’s doorstep , badly bleeding

You’re bundled up on the couch with a snack and half-way through a binge watching spree when the front door opens with such force it slams into the wall. In that moment, your heart stops from surprise and the sight of König dragging Ghost inside.

“Guys!?” You untangle yourself from the blankets. König looks fine, tired, but Ghost looks rough. He’s breathing hard and clutching at his side, where blood is slowly seeping out between his fingers. “Oh my god, Simon!”

“He refuses to go to the hospital!” König’s voice cracks as he drags Ghost across the room and dumps him on the dining room table. Ghost groans. It always happens like this because Ghost doesn’t want people asking question — your guys end up doing triage on the kitchen table.

You grab the first aid kit and spread it out within König’s reach. He’s no medical professional, but he knows enough to patch Ghost up and keep his blood inside his body.

[ DRAG ] sender physically hauls receiver to safety

A bullet flies past and König hears the thud of a bullet hitting its mark, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Ghost fall. Another bullet whizzes past, grazing König’s helmet.

“Ghost!” König’s heart clenches and he sees red. He takes aim in the direction the offending bullet came from, and cleanly eliminates his target. He’s satisfied — for now.

“Leave me! Go!” Ghost gasps through gritted teeth, clutching at where the bullet struck him. König isn’t listening. He grabs the back of Ghost’s uniform and drags him back into the relative safety of cover.

“Get out, König! Now!”

“Not leaving you, bruder!” König pulls the first aid kit from his kit, ripping it open. It’s quick and dirty, but all he can do for Ghost now is to stop the bleeding. “Our sweet one would kill me. And maybe start their own war.”

Ghost laughs and immediately regrets it when a fresh wave of pain hits him. He flinches and sighs, “Fuckin’ hell, can’t have that.”

[ UNEXPECTED ] receiver comes home to find sender already inside

Today sucked. Worked sucked. Everything sucked. It’s been raining non-stop, and you forgot your lunch, so of course, when you went out to get lunch nearby, a car hit a puddle, drenching you from head to toe. Worst of all, your boyfriends have been away for weeks.

You struggle to get the key in the door, and honestly, you’re ready to cry cause fuck this door. Fuck this day. You get inside and toss your things aside.

“I’m home.” You sigh, knowing full well no one is going to answer you back.

“Welcome home, mein häschen!”

You look over and see König standing there, arms open as wide as the small space allowed and waiting. He wiggles his fingers, and smiles, and you scream. You jump right into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck. “My bear!”

König’s arms engulf you and you both laugh as he lifts you up off the floor, twirling you around. It’s a flurry of frantic, little kisses as you both try to talk, laugh, and kiss at the same time.

He sets you back on your feet, chasing you for one last peck.

“Where’s my kiss?” Ghost huffs, fresh out of the shower in just his sweatpants with a towel around his neck.

"Simon!” you coo and move into his arms, leaning up on your toes to kiss him. Unlike König, kissing him is much calmer, but more intense. He takes his time, leaving you breathless and weak in the knees.

He cups your cheek, and you lean into his calloused hand. “Welcome home, love.”

“And you, too. Welcome home, guys.”

[ STRANDED ] sender and receiver become stranded in the woods

“It’s dead.” Ghost says, slamming the bonnet of the car down with an irritated sigh. Just their luck that the car would decide to die not even half-way to the cabin. Now they’re stranded in the middle of the woods without a ride. “It’s getting dark. We’ll camp out in the car tonight, then hike the rest of the way to the cabin.”

With all the seats folded down and moved forward as much as the vehicle would allow, König and Ghost climb into the car and you squeeze yourself in-between them. It’s a tight fit, but you manage, throwing your leg over Ghost’s with a loud sigh.

“Everybody comfy?” Ghost grins when you finally seem to settle down.

“No.”

“Nein.”

“Great,” Ghost leans down and plants a kiss on your forehead, “Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a long hike ahead of us at first light.”

“You know, since we’re camping outside —” You grin, hearing Ghost groan. He knows where this is going and he’s already against it. “We should tell scary stories!”

The car suddenly lurches and rocks from König trying to scoot impossibly closer in his excitement. “I’ve got one!”

[ EMBRACE ] sender kisses receiver thinking it’ll be the last time

Ghost pushes König’s veil up, and his heart breaks seeing the tears swelling up in the other man’s eyes. They both knew, in their line of work, that death was always a possibility and they had made their peace with that a long time ago. But this wasn’t how they wanted to go.

Ghost grips the back of König’s neck, pulling him down and into a kiss. He kisses him over, and over again, hoping each time will keep the tears from spilling over. Anything to distract König — and himself — from the inevitable fate that’s barreling toward them.

[ TOKEN ] sender gives receiver a lucky charm before they go into battle

It was a race against time to get the patches finished. König would deploy first, KorTac needed him somewhere, then SpecGru would ship Ghost off a few weeks after. The patches aren’t perfect, but it’s the best you’re going to get after binge watching crafting YouTube videos. At least it’s obvious what it is now — a skull, a bunny, and a bear all held together by a bright red heart.

“They’re not the best, but here.” You held the patches out to König and Ghost after dinner one night, “You don’t have to wear them or anything I just… thought it would be nice to have something personal, you know?”

You press your lips together to keep yourself from rambling. Nerves did that to you sometimes. König seemed over the moon with joy, examining his patch like a kid with a new toy. Ghost, on the other hand, gave nothing away.

“What about you?” Ghost says.

“Oh, I made one for me too!” You pull a matching patch from your pocket to show him, and that seems to please Ghost.

“Thanks, love.”

“Danke!”

In return for your gifts, you’re given loving kisses and the sight of two grown-men chatting excitedly amongst themselves about where they’re going to put the patch on their uniforms.

[ CORNERED ] sender menacingly backs receiver into a corner

There’s only so many ways to react when Ghost backs you into the corner of the shower, and that’s getting on your knees. He leans over you, a forearm braced against the tile, his other hand on the back of your head guiding you toward his cock.

You’re all too happy to oblige, swirling your tongue around the tip before swallowing his cock. His breath hitches, and his length twitches in your mouth.

“Damn, sweetheart.” Ghost says with a groan, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Love your mouth — so hot.”

You flush at the praise. Oh, how you want to make him happy. You hold on to his hips, flattening your tongue and dragging it along the underside of his cock as you bob your head. It doesn’t take long before Ghost takes control, thrusting himself into your mouth in short, rapid motions. He’s already wound up, and you know exactly what he likes.

Ghost’s muscles go rigid as he spills into your mouth with a soft ‘fuck’.

[ SHELTER ] sender and receiver must find shelter from a storm

A snowstorm wasn’t part of the plan when König dragged you and Ghost to a cabin in the middle of Austria. Or maybe it was. A scheme carefully planned by König to get you both naked. Not that you minded when you found yourself trapped between two heaving, sweat slick chests.

“One more, love.” Ghost says with a groan, his tongue chasing a bead of sweat down your throat. “Just one more, know you got it in you.”

“I can’t.” You slump back against König, mouth agape and chest heaving. The guys have been at this for what felt like hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were all drenched in sweat.

“You can.”

König’s hand slides over your stomach and between your legs, coaxing you toward the crest of another strained orgasm. You gasp, reaching back to grab a fistful of his hair, tugging fruitlessly on it as if he’d take mercy on you. Ghost pushes you along, grinding his hips into you, pushing his cock deeper into you.

You bite your lip, back arching, and leg twitching as you came again for them.

[ HUSH ] sender clasps a hand over receiver’s mouth to silence them

There were drawbacks to sleeping with König. His size made quickies impossible, but he made you scream every time he pinned you down and stuffed full of his cock. You didn’t mind, and neither did he, but your neighbors certainly did.

Naturally, you both decided to have sex more often and König had fun in finding out how loud he could make you moan — and the various ways to keep you quiet.

You shudder beneath him, and König’s hand flew over your mouth, muffling your scream as you came hard. Your body shakes and twitches beneath him. You grab at the sheets and whine as König slows down, grinding his hips into yours as you ride it out.

“Mein häschen, so well-behaved.”

He pulls his hand away, pressing tender kisses on your back and shoulders. You slump forward, breathing hard and drooling on the sheets. König only gives you a moment to collect yourself before he braces his hands on the bed and slams his hips into you again.

[celestialmilfs]

Classroom Blues

Character: Melissa Schemmenti Word count: 3,310 Warnings: Car accidents, panic attacks, PTSD Genre: Hurt/Comfort Rating: T

Description: Tires screech against pavement, shrill and cruel. Aluminum crunches. Glass shatters. Every single kid stops what they’re doing. --- It’s never been so frightening to look out the window

“That’s looking great, Noah!”

You smile over his shoulder, and he beams back at you before returning to his crayons.

Second graders are so easy to please.

You walk past him to get a look at everybody else’s paper plate dinosaurs. Nathan’s is breathing fire. Tyrone gave his a little princess crown. When you asked, Jamila said hers is ‘a apatopasaurus’ and that she refuses any further comment.

Fantastic work, overall.

It’s looking mighty fine outside too; the day is stretching into afternoon, and the sun blazes into the art room, etching on the walls the shadows of the easter bunnies the first graders had made last week.

The clock is slowly ticking towards two, and you’re only fifteen minutes away from a hot McVegan — no tomato, and two hours of the Good Place. Jamila lifts her hand as high as she can and speaks before you can even get to her.

“I’m all done,” she says. Her apatopasaurus is made of three plates instead of one, and the legs have pink pipe cleaners for both claws and a tongue. There’s a little tear drawn beneath its googly eye.

“Oh, wow.” You turn it around and smile at the glitter glue spots drawn on the other side. “This is really great, Jamila. You wanna help me put it on the—“

Tires screech against pavement, shrill and cruel. Aluminum crunches. Glass shatters.

Every single kid stops what they’re doing.

“Look!” Samantha yells and runs to the window. Half the class follows her, crowding in a line to catch a glimpse. God’s mercy that most of them are too short to see past the supply shelf. It offers you no such protection, though.

Just by the crossing outside, a black car is crushed against a DHL truck. Must have been going way outside the speed limit; you’re barely allowed to hit 40 out there because of the kids. The left side is completely collapsed around the truck’s hood, but you can see the driver just fine from here.

Dead.

He’s dead.

You snap into action.

“Hey, come on,” you say and start herding them away from the windows. “The ambulance guys will handle it, okay? Let’s get back to work.”

Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, like you’re speaking into a bottomless tunnel. The kids don’t seem to hear you either. More likely they’re just not listening because they’re eight-year-olds and most of them haven’t had time to even think about death yet.

They haven’t been to a funeral on a perfectly sunny day, just like this one.

Haven’t hung upside down by their seatbelt in a upended car.

Or seen how broken glass mangles a face.

Stop.

You blink yourself back into the here-and-now. Your knees are already beginning to feel weak, ready to buckle under the slightest strain.

Just breathe. Ten years of practiced technique, honed to perfection. Breathe.

For the kids, if not for yourself.

The minute hand on the clock ticks over to fifty-three. A few kids, the same ones who always put the watercolors back where they belong once they’re done, were kind enough to head back to their seats, but that still leaves you with eight children glued to the glass, watching the driver get dragged out of the car. He’s dropped onto the pavement. Someone’s trying to resuscitate. You can tell from here that it won’t work.

“Okay, I mean it this time.” You try to cover your trembling voice, to apply the gentle authority you’d seen Barbara pull a thousand times. They don’t move an inch. Maybe it’s the gulf of difference in experience, maybe it’s just Barbara being Barbara, or maybe they can tell that you’re afraid.

You sigh and peel the kids off the window one by one and escort them into their seats. Inelegant. Methodical. Your limbs function outside your jurisdiction in a world entirely of their own. When you bring your hand to hover in front of your face, it feels lightyears away, a limb puppeted without its master.

You can still feel crumbled glass embedded between the creases of your palm.

Breathe, damn it.

“Who was that guy?” Jamila asks even after you’ve sat her back down by her dinosaur.

“I don’t know, buddy.” You brush cardboard clippings off her shorts and onto the floor. The fabric is void of feeling under your prickling fingers. “But I’m sure they’ve called an ambulance. They’ll take care of it.”

Sure enough, when you glance at the road, Janine is buzzing around the truck driver, her phone already glued to her ear.

The bell rings at last. The kids yell out in joy and their wave of conversation washes you back ashore for a second. They grab their bags, forget their plates and stickers and markers, and are out the door in record time. They’re so excited.

You can’t tell them to slow down, to stop, even, until the commotion outside is finished. You can’t do anything but stand still and listen as their voices ebb away into just an echo.

Pills. Where are your pills.

You stumble to your bag and search it with trembling, unsure hands, like fingers against a jammed car door, dipping into the seams to tear the whole thing off if you have to. You throw your keys on the table, same as your wallet, your planner, your lighter, and a handful of stray pens; all of them in a heap that slips over the edge and to the floor. You turn the whole bag inside out, but can’t find the pill bottle.

Your chest is getting tighter, heavier, like the spaces between your ribs are stuffed with cotton, like you’re trapped under a ten ton truck careening off the highway uncaring of casualties.

Breathe. Remember to breathe.

You can’t breathe, that’s the whole fucking problem.

The room is empty. Your only companion is the sun, and even she’s about to dip behind the buildings on the other side of the street.

You fall to your knees, grasping at the collar of your shirt, your fingers far too stiff, too jittery to undo one single button. You tear them open anyway. One flies under the shelf, like a body clean through the windshield. He said he didn’t need the seatbelt; it was such a short trip anyway. His legs were bent wrong six times over down in the ditch.

The world becomes muffled, stuffs your ears with ringing to keep you from hearing your own scratchy, frightened heaves for air. To save you the fear. The shame. You claw at your throat, at your chest, hoping you might dig out the chunk obstructing your windpipe.

You want to scream. So much. You’re mentally holding yourself by the shoulders, begging yourself to keep quiet. You’re in a position of authority. A child sees you like this, it’ll go down to the parents and you’re in trouble. Abbott’s in trouble. You can’t afford that.

You remember the mud staining your shirt when you’d crawled out, your leg broken and your face dripping with blood. You still don’t know if it was yours. Sirens, nearby. A broken airbag. A broken neck.

Blood.

You back up against the wall and your head bangs into the bricks with a sudden jerk, though the pain is nothing, nothing compared to—

A hand lands on your shoulder. You jump back in fright, your other arm flying to shield your face. Something hot drips down your cheek, but you can’t bring your fingers up to check, can’t trap yourself in that knowledge.

“Whoa, okay,” someone says. “No sudden touching. Gotcha.” The voice sinks like a rock into deep, dark water, far off and twisted. You can’t move to see who it is, who’s come to watch you in your weakest, most undignified moment.

“I’m gonna take your hand,” they say. “That okay?”

You nod, but the movement is stiff and thick with tension, just like the neckbrace they’d given you, after everything. You had a rash for weeks.

Your hand is enveloped by another, the touch soft, the fingers a little cold. There are rings right above the knuckles: two of them plain bands and one with a big, sharp stone on it. You squeeze the hand hard, hard enough to make the other person groan a thick, hefty ‘ow’.

“Okay. Think you could try and breathe with me? Doesn’t have to be perfect.”

The person doesn’t wait this time. They take a deep breath, exaggerated enough for even you to hear, and then exhale, like wind in the trees on a stormy night when nobody should’ve been driving in the first place.

Your attempt in following them is sad and broken. The air remains trapped in your throat, refusing to flow all the way into your lungs, no matter how you try to wheeze it in or out.

“Good, keep going.”

It’s not even remotely good, not even passable, but you keep it up anyway. In and out, but it’s more like i-i-i-i-in-in-in and ooo-out-o-ooout. This doesn’t deter the person sitting next to you, though. They keep their breathing even and deep, and you follow them, out of pace and rhythm in a one-sided dance where you keep crushing your mystery partner’s toes.

“You’re doin’ real good,” they say, and a thumb is drawn across your knuckles, soft and soothing, free of crusted blood or thick, soupy mud. “Just keep going.

Ain’t no point in rushin’ it, right?”

You do as you’re told. In and out. Your pained attempts slowly start to resemble what the other person is doing, more of a mirror than a reflection in disturbed water. The locked knots in your muscles start unwinding themselves open one by one, and you suddenly find yourself sagging forwards without control.

Arms wrap around your torso and your head knocks into someone’s clavicle instead of the floor. You’re shifted like a living doll into a more comfortable position and your nose buries itself into the nook between the person’s neck and shoulders. You inhale a lungful of syrupy perfume and papaya shampoo.

The clock keeps ticking. The rhythm anchors you, keeps you safely here on the classroom floor where there’s no cars, no highways, no forgotten seatbelts.

“That any better?”

Melissa Schemmenti moves her hand to your back to draw big, smooth circles into your shirt. You manage a dazed, exhausted nod.

The classroom is swimming back into view, bit by bit, color by color. Chairs abandoned where their occupants leapt out of them, craft supplies all over the floor. Tamir forgot his backpack.

“The kids—“

“Are fine,” Melissa says. Her arm slides off your back and around your shoulder instead. She squeezes you tight. “Janine and Gregory were on herding duty.”

“Ok,” you whisper. The clock ticks on, and your stomach dips when you read the face: ten past three.

“You wanna talk about it?” Melissa asks.

The scenery fades in and out, transforms into the woods by the highway and back into an elementary art class in disarray. A mess, both ways. You press your knuckles into your eyes and watch the sparks.

“I’m not sure,” you say.

Melissa nods and clicks open her phone. She shoots someone a text, though you only realize to look away by the time she’s about to write something to Janine.

“Thanks, though” you mumble into the crook of her neck. Your body is dipping straight past relaxed all the way into half-dead. Your fingers feel like spaghetti noodles.

Melissa huffs a laugh. “It’s no trouble.”

You sniff and wipe your cheeks. Apparently you were crying after all.

“How did you find me?”

Melissa puts her phone back in her pocket and you can feel her jaw tighten. She’s thinking.

“I was coming to check on the kids because, well. You know.” She waves her free hand toward the window. “I saw you go down. Fell right off your feet. Scared me to hell, you know.”

You grimace. “Sorry.”

“Pssh,” she says. “Like I said. It’s no trouble.”

You watch the splotch of sunlight, still persistently on the wall. Another hour and it’ll be gone.

You start to peel yourself off of Melissa, pausing mid-movement to wait for the ringing in your ears to ease up, and lean against the wall instead. Melissa, thankfully, keeps her arm around you for support.

“I was in a car accident,” you say.

Melissa’s brow shoots to her hairline when her head whips around.

“It was bad.” You rub your fingers together; a feeble attempt to get some feeling back into them. “I was sitting in the back and my best friend was driving. Her boyfriend was in the passenger seat.”

Deep breaths. In and out.

“They both died.”

“Jesus,” Melissa says, spits the lord’s name in a way that would make Barbara send both of you to sunday school. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Still.”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, hoping to buy yourself a second of time to stave off any further admission; words you know you can’t keep to yourself right now but ones you’re embarrassed to admit regardless. “I can’t even watch tv shows about that stuff ever since. Of course it would find me in the front yard.” You scoff. “Figures.”

Melissa sighs, soft and smooth, so unlike your own strained, barely calmed breathing. “Shit.”

You can’t help the smile. “Yeah.”

“You feeling any better?” she asks.

You give your neck a little roll, wiggle your fingers and your toes. “I think so. I don’t think I can walk just yet, though.”

“That’s all right. My dinner plans can wait a couple minutes.”

Footsteps draw your attention to the hall. Barbara appears in the doorway in her light brown jacket, her and Melissa’s purses both slung over her shoulder. She takes a quick look at you and then stares meaningfully at Melissa, posing a silent question.

Heat floods into your cheeks, your neck, your ears. It could’ve been Janine, could’ve been Gregory, even Jacob, but of course it has to be Barbara Howard, the singlemost composed person in the whole world, who stumbles in on you crying into Melissa’s shoulder.

Her divorce papers were recently filed, though, so if anything, she’s probably very familiar with the feeling.

Melissa mimes ‘five more minutes’ at Barbara, and there’s a silent battle of wills between them, a conversation you couldn’t even begin to understand, after which Barbara sighs with a smile on her face, bows her head and disappears back into the hall.

“You gonna get home okay?” Melissa asks you when the sound of Barbara’s heels has faded.

“Yeah. Usually I bike, but I think I’ll walk home today. I’ll be fine.” Melissa’s face dips into a frown as she very seriously doubts you. There’s no escaping that look, and it only takes you a second to start sweating. You wonder how people actually trying to fight Melissa Schemmenti aren’t immediately recuded to cinders.

“I swear,” you say, and draw a cross over your heart. Melissa smacks her lips and tilts her head as she assesses your woozy, bulldozed self. Apparently you aren’t shaking that bad, because when she straightens herself, she says, “Okay. But.”

You want to groan. A good sign. Your feet are a little closer to ground again.

“You text both me and Barb when ya get home. Is that clear?”

You lift your hand in a salute. “Crystal.”

Melissa laughs, a smoke-worn, throaty sound that pulls you another inch closer to reality.

“Keep that up and no Schemmenti leftovers for you,” she says. “Cheeky little shit.”

She somehow drags a laugh out of you, short and genuine and good, and it’s not like none of this happened, but it lets you put a band-aid on the wound at least.

“I think I could try getting up now.” You try putting a little pressure on your foot, and though your leg doesn’t immediately smack right back to the floor, it does tremble a significant amount. Heat crawls down your neck again as you ask,

“Could you, uh…”

“’Course.”

Melissa gets to her feet with a strained groan and a ‘fuck my fucking knees’, but manages to get herself standing. She offers you her hand and you take it, keeping your free palm firmly against the wall as she pulls you to your feet. It’s an unsteady operation, one that leaves you dizzy and winded, and nearly back on your ass more than once.

Once you’re safely standing, Melissa gathers up the contents of your bag and hands it to you, but only once she’s made sure that you can actually carry it. She holds you by the shoulders all the way to the hall, and doesn’t let go until the door has safely clicked shut. You still keep your hand by the wall, though. Just in case.

“I’ll have to come in early tomorrow to clean up,” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t even think about it.”

When you look at her, Melissa is staring you down with the intensity of three suns. Whole solar systems, even. You put your hands up in surrender.

“Only if you’re sure,” you say. It is a relief, you have to admit. Especially if you still have to run to the pharmacy to get your prescription refilled.

“Don’t you worry your li’l head about it.”

She walks you all the way to the entrance, where Barbara is still waiting with a paperback book propped on Melissa’s bag.

“All cleared up, then?” she asks.

“Yup,” Melissa says. Short and sweet. Barbara doesn’t ask any further question, though you doubt it’s from lack of interest. At least Melissa has a dinner story to share, if nothing else.

You all slip out the door, but Melissa stops you there. She looks you over, head to toe, her lips pursed and her hands fiddling with the strap of her purse.

“You sure about this?” she asks. “I could give you a ride.”

You fish your keys from your bag and close your fingers around the one meant for the lock on your bike.

“I’ll be okay. And I’ll text you.”

Melissa raises her brow.

“Both of you.”

The idea of sending Barbara Howard a text of any kind outside a professional environment feels like some kind of a breach of protocol, but Barbara herself doesn’t seem phased. Outward, at least.

Janine is going to lose her mind when you tell her about this.

A cool breeze slides under your thin shirt, and your arms erupt in goosebumps.

“I better get going,” you say, but can’t get yourself to walk over to the bike rack just yet. Your fingernail digs into the notches of the key, and you try to figure out something to say, anything that could put into words just how much Melissa has done for you in one afternoon. In the end, you decide to go with something simple.

“Thank you, Melissa.”

She looks amused, truly like she’s done what anybody else would have. Like it’s nothing. You wonder if she’ll ever know how much it means, even if you tried to tell her.

“Eh.” She shrugs. “It was no trouble.”

How perfectly Melissa of her.

“See you tomorrow,” you say, and with one final wave and a smile goodbye, you start heading for home.

Behind you, once you’re definitely out of range, Barbara turns to Melissa.

“What happened?” she asks.

Melissa watches you clear the crosswalk and waits until you disappear behind the Subway.

“I’ll tell you later, hon.” She presses a kiss to Barbara’s cheek. “First we need to eat. I am too fucking hungry to talk.”

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti,” Barbara gasps, “you watch that tongue of yours.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Barb.”

“Incorrigible,” Barbara mutters and heads for the car. Melissa doesn’t miss the smile on her face.

“Love you too.”

[fieldofdaisiies]

LOVED your headcanon on reader x boss Az. As I see you are happy to take NSFW requests, could we see a spicy version, maybe a few months later and it has progressed from little touches and looks? Maybe something could happen in the car journey home one night?? 👀👀👀

I love your writing and your blog ❤️❤️

yeeees, of course. here we gooo❤️ warning: this is filthy!!!!!

so as your little teasing and taunting has developed into a little workplace romance things also turn a little more spicy between the two of you

let's start in the actual office before we focus on the late night car rides, shall we?

Azriel would totally be the type to call you into his office, pretend to need you very much for something job related only so that he can lift you onto his desk and bury his head between your thighs

and boy, this man is starved – not getting enough of you after having made you come once with his tongue

he will having you bounce on his lap for a second round

or what do we think of cock warming? this man loves nothing more than having you sit there while he to continues to work

obviously you will try to wiggle a little, hoping for some friction

Azriel does not really like that

his large hand will grab your thigh while his heated gaze pierces into your own eyes "sssh, angel, be a good girl. behave. only then I can give you what you deserve."

whining is also useless, his gaze is soon again fully focused on his screen while you try to not whimper again and his hand still holds your thigh

he loves to tease you, god he enjoys it so much

so letting his hand slide up your thigh, under your skirt during meetings is also very common

but two can play this game

so suddenly popping into his office before a very important meeting, taking off your clothes and revealing the sinful lingerie underneath is also not unusual

it will mostly end up in you two doing the naughty on his desk, his chair or the little couch in his office (or the floor)

sucking him off under the table, mhm yes

so one or the other time it has already happened that you two got interrupted and Azriel will simply shove (softly of course) you under the table where you then will have a little fun and he has to try so hard to concentrate

oh and if you decide to be a little feisty some days or stand a little too close to a colleague Azriel will get a little angry or jealous, bending you over his desk and giving your backside a fine imprint of his hand

or he will take you from behind, the stationary supplies one by one hitting the floor

and lastly, Azriel giving you the look during meetings that has your knees wobbly within seconds and you know exactly what he wants afterwards

okay before we enter the car, let's stay in the elevator for a little

mostly you two just make out in the elevator, to afraid someone might enter

but there are days where one of you (mostly Azriel) is just too needy

his hand slips between your thighs, under your skirt, pushing your panties aside and letting his long, slender fingers glide through your folds, letting you ride his fingers right there in the elevator

one day you are a little more needy and so you decide to be bold, pushing the stop button

Azriel's mouth is on yours quicker than you think

he hoists you up, pushes you against the wall, and well, the rest is obvious

now let's focus on those late night car rides home

Azriel has a driver so his full attention is on you on the way home

it all started one day with his fingers teasing you (he had your consent of course)

then he used his mouth, you back agains the door

or you knelt between his thighs, teasing and licking him, suckling

once your relationship has started to developed you got more confident -> one night Azriel is lying down on the backseat, you climb on top of him, riding him

or he stays seated, letting you ride

often he will tell his driver to just go around the block a few more times, not yet done with you

and many times he will just follow you to your place

or invite you to his

most nights you will fall asleep in each other's arms and also wake like that, sharing some sweet and soft kisses

[pandazenie27]

my top 5 car seat headrest songs (as of now):

1: We Can’t Afford (Your Depression Anymore)

-everything about this song i just love a lot. the instrumentals are just so good. it sort of puts into words some things i feel and i love how he says “You’ve got a lot to live for” because throughout the song he uses terms like “we” and “our” and it sort of implies that he views this person more worthy of living than he is and i feel like it’s a great detail. the instrumental break at the end makes me go feral and crazy and then when he says “i don’t know how to make you happy” it just makes me feel something in my chest idk i love this song a lot

2: Fill In The Blank

-there’s a reason why this song is so popular and that because it goes so fucking hard i really like how it shows how people act towards people with depression. i’ve been asked “why?” when i try to explain my feelings and i just can’t think of any real reason that would make sense to the people i’m talking to. it’s just really difficult to exist and this song kind of puts it into words how i’ve been feeling and also just the overlapping vocals on the last chorus go so hard i love when songs do that

3: Cute Thing

-I like both versions of cute thing and i genuinely can’t figure out which one i like better so they’re both up here because i like them for different reasons. I like how smooth the face to face version sounds and i like how crispy crunchy the mirror to mirror version sounds. i like the instrumental break in the face to face version a lot more because there’s something about when the music stops for a second to let the singing happen that just makes me feel something inside. my favorite part of the mirror to mirror version is the little “woof woof!” after he says “i will be your rock dog” because it just makes me really happy. also this song got me back into tmbg so that’s also a plus

4: Please, Mr. Pilot

-please mr pilot is one of those songs that just kills me. the music is great and it’s more peppy (?) than some of their other songs but the lyrics are just bone-shattering life-changing head-banging-against-the-wall good to me. “why should i bare my soul to strangers when i never bared my soul to you?” like come on man i’m like foaming at the mouth whenever i listen to this song. also just a general thing about listening to songs from disjecta membra is that i just like going out of the way to pull up youtube to listen to a song i like because it feels like i’m visiting my long-distance lover

5: Something Soon

-Specifically talking about the one from teens of style because that one just feels nicer to me for some reason (i like the one from mbikmb too but unlike with cute thing this version i just like a bit more) There’s something about the lyrics to this song that just sort of make sense to me. “i want to break something important” that weird self-destructive impulse has hit me so many times and it just makes sense. also my fingers are frozen too dude i feel you it’s cold out.

Honorable Mentions (songs that i love a lot that didn’t make it into the current top 5):

-Literally just anything else from twin fantasy

-drunk drivers/killer whales

-i hate living

-it’s only sex

-kimochi warui

-hey space cadet

-destroyed by hippie powers

-i want you to know that i’m awake/i hope you’re asleep

-there’s more but i’m tired rn

[wjehfshs]

Why I'm a sooo evil but anyway

Gaz with a baby!reader and gaz gets them a babysitter due to a mission and after that mission the Boys get a call that the city is under attack and that city is where baby!reader is at.

And after they saved some citizens gaz sees the babysitter crying holding reader only for gaz to realize reader is dead due to the smoke and all the boys are trying to comfort him while watching this guy breakdown trying his best to revive reader.

and gives up knowing his baby is gone but out of some miracle reader comes back to life crying making gaz cry of happiness but the nurses gotta check readers health atleast the boys are there for him and price is like your good dad.

I bet gaz is the type of father who will ask every father or ask price some father advice but anyway get some sleep because is 10:43pm over here

Stop I’m gonna cry

Readers a baby, reader dies momentarily, death of a child/baby, angst, reader comes back to life, Gaz is a widower

Gaz was a single father to you after your mother died due to complications during birth

He was so protective of you, you where all he had after the death of his girlfriend

He was called for an important mission, it was short but it couldn’t be missed

So he left you with a family friend

After the mission was over he got a call from the family friend

They where in tears babbling on about how the city was just attacked and he ran to turn on the news

He saw the broadcast of the destroyed city

He ran, shouting to everyone else telling them to “get in the fucking heli”

After 3 torturous hours, he arrived at the base and wasted no time getting in a car

They spent hours saving citizens and people, the only thing on his mind was if you where safe or not

After they saved enough people for it to be manageable he got back in the drivers seat with the rest of the team and sped off

He didn’t care if he got a ticket or was thrown in jail all he wanted was to see if you where ok

When he got there he felt his heart shatter

There you where, being cradled by the family friend as their face was red and swollen under the red and blue lights of the ambulance

A fire had been set off a house down, causing the smoke to drift into his house

He felt his legs move by themselves as he scooped your body up

“Gaz…. I’m. Im so sorry, they just died 2 minutes before you got here” they sobbed out, sitting on the curb head in hands

The rest of the 141 looked on as their hearts dropped

He couldn’t speak, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to murder everyone around him even if they did nothing wrong

He just stared down at your still warm body as he sat down in the middle of the road

He wanted to be woken up in his room with you in your cradle, breathing and sleeping peacefully

He felt tears well in his eyes as they dropped onto the road

He couldn’t hold it anymore

He started screaming and wailing as he clung onto your body, praying you would wake up and laugh like you always did

God he even wanted to hear your cries that used to drive him up the wall

He felt Price come up behind him and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling his head into his chest

“Son. I’m so sorry, it’s gonna be ok…” he comforted Gaz the best he could

It felt like hours before he heard a tiny cough

He felt his heart jump up to his throat as he pulled you back to look at you

He thought he was hallucinating when he saw you move your tiny chubby arms as you coughed

He pulled you back in, lightly hitting your back to help you breathe again

He was overjoyed to have you back

God you even threw up all over his uniform but he didn’t care

He heard those cries that he used to wish would go away again

He couldn’t be happier to hear you cry

“Fuck… I thought I lost you my beautiful child” he whispered as he held you close

The rest of the team all finally breathed a sigh of relief

Gaz stood up as a nurse rushed over to help you

He handed you over to them as Price hugged him, avoiding the baby throw up on Gaz’s shoulder

Soap and Ghost rushed over, all of them where crying as Gaz laughed from the adrenaline of the situation

You where handed back to him as he looked down on you

He felt like he was right back at your birth, the first time he held you was happening all over again

A couple weeks later the rest of the team was over at his house more often than usual to take care of you

Although Gaz was your biological dad, the rest of the team where all of your dads as well

Price was the classic dad

Gaz was the cool younger dad

Ghost was the soft and warm dad

And Soap was the fun dad

They all thought of you as their own honestly

Ok here’s a meme to counter the angst