#what a fuckin blast to be able to do that

[jekyllnahyena]

man, sometimes I really need to remember that I can draw whatever I want, however I want.

fuck around with perspective, do some funky lil designs just for me, put that pink everywhere, what is clean lineart idk her, I’ll do it in a way that’s the most fun for me cause this is my hobby and here to keep me happy and sane before my brain eats itself.

it’s like realising ur an adult and can just Do Things all over again. I wanna go for a drive in the middle of the night just to get to that one gas station that sells my fav lemonade?? I can actually do that now!

fuck around n find out is the vibe and I need to do better by it.

[erwinsvow]

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

[bunnyrafe]

omg speaking of bar crawling w rafe…him being ur dd while u get drunk and on the drive home and you just can’t keep ur hands off of him cause he looks soooo good and ur just so drunk and horny u can’t help it…getting fingered on his lap when u get back YUM 😛😛

absolutely drooling for this— i know it was supposed to be bar crawling with rafe but omg... him being your DD on your nights out in general… it’s unfortunately everything i ever wanted ‘n more. but 🙄🙄🙄 rafe is so annoying because his patience for drunk you is thin asf. let us have fun, bitch.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. f / bratty!reader, dom / mean!rafe, daddy kink, impact play (spanking), dumbification & degradation.

rafe has the AC on full blast.

it’s a hot summer night and the way the underside of your thighs are sticking to his leather seats are proof that. it’s ninety degrees and counting even with the sun down but you’re having the time of your life in his passenger seat. wiggling your hips and shouting along to your favorite songs as they blast through his speakers much to his dismay. there’s pineapple juice and tequila on your breath, hidden away by your glittery lips… from the gloss you reapplied in the club bathroom before he picked you up.

girls night was a success despite him texting you every ten minutes. you’d be lying if you said each message didn’t have you grinning at your phone, if you said you didn’t send him selfies every chance you had to take one.

“he know i only wanna come over put it on him— i got that woah-na-na-na. he drink that shit like water. i got that supernova, that super grip, that choker,” you lean over the console as you sing along, and rafe rolls his eyes so hard you think his head may hurt. but his thigh tenses up when you splay your hand over it, rubbing the denim of his jeans and the muscle underneath it.

“you’re done.” he bites out before turning down the music completely, clearly fed up with your antics.

you huff at that, yet your hand travels higher. he looks too good when you’re stressing him out— as sick as it sounds. you wanna push and paw at his buttons until he just can’t take it anymore, and that’s exactly what you do as you nearly palm at his hardening cock while you pout, “ugh… sometimes you’re so mean, rafey.”

“yeah?” he takes his eyes off the road for a split second to look at you and meet your glossy eyes, “you think because ‘m not playing your fuckin’ games for once i’m mean? is that it? you’ll see just how fuckin’ mean i can be, then.”

and he keeps his word. you’re bent over his lap within minutes when you get home, with your little party dress yanked up and slutty panties pulled to the side while you giggle and kick your legs. you earn yourself a few spanks. spanks so hard that your brain shuts down a bit upon the impact and you’re only able to yelp.

“naughty girl,” rafe spits out in feigned disgust once he feels how slick your folds are. your poor cunt has been drooling for him before you even got in the truck, and now that his fingers are slowly circling your clit it’s beyond messy.

“daddy, please…” you whine out, smushing your face in to the sofa cushion in shame.

to your surprise rafe does slip two of his fingers into you, stretching you out and making your lungs burn with how fast you inhale at the intrusion. his fingertips find that one spot hidden in your silky walls so quick, curling slowly and forcing your tongues to curl with them in sync, and your cunt to cream around the digits as a warning for your impending orgasm. all sensitive due to the liquor in you.

you mewl into the material beneath you and a puddle of your saliva darkens it. rafes free hand slaps your plump ass again.

“if you think you’re cumming any time soon, you’re fuckin’ dumber than i thought.”

[itgetzweird08]

one two three four

katsuki bakugo x Gn!reader

“What's up your ass?”

Mitsuki asked her son as she tailored his suit. It was the weekend, which meant he was at home. While he was there his mother insisted on fitting him for his suit, despite the dance being a month away. “Nothing hag, stay out of my damn-“ Katsuki didn’t even finish his sentence before his mom smacked him in the back of his head. “WHO YOU CALLIN HAG? THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Katsuki’s palm’s sparked in anger but before he could retaliate, his father chimed in from the desk in the corner of his parents’ work room. “Katsuki, we can tell when something’s wrong. What is it, son?” His dad’s eyes were soft, and Katsuki (reluctantly) backed down. He always had a soft spot for his dad. “Nothing- I just think this dance is fucking pointless.”

Mitsuki tilted her head in confusion as she fiddled with Katsuki’s pant leg. “Why? You fuckin love dressing up, as much as you pretend not to. You are our son after all.” and that was true, being the son of two of Japan’s most popular designers did make Katsuki have a passion for fashion. While he did prefer street wear, he appreciated a good suit every once in a while.

“Cuz y/n won’t be here to be my date and I ain’t taking no one else. Plus, even if I wanted to, half the class is paired up already. Better off not even fuckin going”

it was rare to see Katsuki pout, but this was one of the rare times he would do so. He always pouted when he thought about how far away from him you were. If he thought about how much he missed you for too long, he would try to busy himself with something else. It made him pretty productive, actually. Your face popping up on his mind a bit too much? He does his homework early to distract himself. When his heart is calling for you? He heads to the gym and blasts music in his ears to drown out the wistful thinking. But he couldn’t do that right now. All he can do now is stand here and wish for your presence.

Katsuki had told his parents about you right before the war. Actually, if he had died during the battle, he made them swear that they would give you his favorite skull tshirt and a letter he wrote. Luckily though, while it was a close call, that never had to happen. But since then, you’ve talked to his parents a few times. His mom, to your surprise, was especially fond of you and would always ask Katsuki about you when they saw him. It didn’t bother him though, he would take any excuse to talk and brag about his person.

“It’s a shame y/n won’t be able to be there, but you shouldn’t throw away the whole dance because of it. Plus I’m sure it would break their heart if they found out you weren’t going because of them.” Masaru told his son softly, only earning a shrug in response. Katsuki knew his father was right, but he was still disappointed. Mitsuki stood up and ruffled Katsuki’s hair, which earned her a glare that she completely ignored. “Have fun at the dance, brat. That way, you can tell y/n all about it when it’s over.”

———

After Katsuki had gone back to the dorms, Misaru and Mitsuki sat together on the couch. Misaru held his wife close, playing with her blonde, spikey hair as Drag Race played on the television. While her husband was locked into the show, Mistuki couldn’t focus. In fact, her mind was completely elsewhere. She couldn’t help the way her heart ached for her son. As often as they butt heads and argued, he was her only child and her baby. He had been through so much in the past three years, and she only wanted the best for him. She was always so supportive of his hopes and dreams, and only wanted him to be happy. He deserved it. It pissed her off that even during a time for celebration and happiness, her son would still be upset because he couldn’t bring the person he cared for most.

As the commercials rolled, Mitsaru looked down at his wife, and pressed a soft kiss to her head. “What’s wrong?” He asked her, earning a grumble in response as she looked up at him. “M’just thinkin bout Katsuki… it ain’t fair that he’s put his entire fuvking life on the line to save the damn country, hell the world even, but he can’t have this one thing. I just…” she sighed heavily, yet Misaru understood. He reflected her feelings as well. He wanted Katsuki to be happy with his friends at this party. Gears in his head began to turn, as between him and his wife, he was the problem solver. He used logic and empathy to solve issues, as Mitsuki usually charged in head first.

After a moment though, a light bulb went off in his head. “Mitsuki…have we asked if she can’t come? I mean, I’m sure Principal Nezu would understand. All Might as well, he’s fond of Katsuki and has a lot of connections. We should see if anything can be done!”

Mitsuki was silent for a bit as she thought about the suggestion, and eventually sat up and turned to Misaru. She beamed brightly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I knew I married you for a reason. I can send Nezu an email and set up the meeting…but let’s keep this from the brat for now, I don’t wanna get his hopes up.”

———

A/N: a little shorter but next chapter is pretty long! FYI, in the back of my mind, reader is the same reader from my endeavor’s secret daughter one shot. But that’s just me!! It’s not required to read that to enjoy this, it’s just a fun little tid bit. I’m gonna try and finish this mini series within a week because I have to move into my dorm in a couple weeks. Lmk if you want to be tagged going forward!

———

Tag List: @sleepyeri @teeesthings @zaiban2989 @kathsuhki @rinbeeyum @oladelmars @getosuckers @luv-for-fictional-characters @attackonnat @ratcity12345 @bffrs-stuff @ch3rryjampi3 @venus1224idkpleaze @fiannee @consentismfhot @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @bl-og134

[michibap]

jschlatt and a chronically offline gf

-i do not give a Fuck about where u guys meet

-all i know is that you two are introduced when he fails to stop himself from Actually laughing out lout when he sees you whip out a cracked to shit iphone 5c

-and while it's a bit of a rocky start, bc youre like 'WHO is this hairy motherfucker and WHY is he laughing at me',

-you two find you actually have quite a bit of common ground

-the conversation flows fairly well, with the two of you sharing similarly dry senses of humor and a mutual appreciation for retro technology

-you listen to him ramble on about some game you've never heard of and he listens to you talk about a cool book you're reading that has a similar plot

-he notices you kinda just smile and nod when he makes some pop culture references that would usually get him some laughs, but he brushes it off

-maybe the two of you get separated at some point, with promises to pick up later

-but he doesn't see you again

-so he takes to the internet and tries to find your social media

-he kind of feels like a freak seeking you out like this, but something about you just drew him in

-what's the worst that could happen from him just looking up your name on a few social media platforms?

-and i'll tell you.

-coming up with fucking NOTHING

-and he feels fucking crazy because there's NO WAY that he can't find you any where

-he’s been making the internet his bitch since he learned to read

-if anyone should be able to find somebody on socials, it would be him

-but after tabbing through the search bar on five platforms, his goal shifts from finding your profile and shooting you a quick dm

-to proving that you exist

-and he’s not spiraling into schizophrenic mania

-he's checked instagram, twitter, snapchat, reddit, facebook, fucking myspace

-an hour later, he found himself scrolling through linked in and decided to put it to rest

-the only evidence that you're an actual human who exists is some article that you were in from when you were in high school, and you being in the profile picture of your mother's private facebook account

-and part of him feels a little bit like a creep after scouring the internet to find anything he can about the girl he talked to literally ONCE

-he decides to give up, resigning himself to the fact that if he was meant to find you, he would have by now

-so he lets it go, and goes about life as usual

-until around three days later, when he catches a vaguely familiar face in the crowd

-and he sees you see him too, looking a little confused, but nonetheless pleased to see him

-he forces himself to BUCK THE FUCK UP and ask for your number

-apologizes for seeming forward and sheepishly admits to not being able to find your socials

-gives you a confused look when you laugh,

“That tracks, I'm not into social media like that."

-you exchange phones to type in your respective numbers

-rolling your eyes when he makes fun of your home button

okay cutie headcanons NEOW

-your first date is obvi at an arcade

-and it smells like feet and there are offputting teenagers at every turn, but you two have a blast playing games together and trying to sabotage one another

-him choosing the stupidly huge stuffed gorilla off the prize wall and turning to you with a cheesy grin

"I don't know what you think this is, but I am not taking that fuckin' thing home."

-he shrugs, handing it off to you

-smile growing larger when you accept it with open arms despite your frown, struggling to hug it to your chest due to it's absurd size

"You hafta."

"Where am I supposed to put it?"

-another shrug,

"I dunno, 's why I'm giving it to you."

-him laughing and struggling to push the plush away as you shove it in his face, attempting to force him to take it back,

"No, I will NOT allow this creature to fuck with my feng shui."

"NO TAKE BACKS"

-he finds out you carry a digital camera on you bc your phone will actually explode if you try to take a picture with it

-and he just KNOWS he's finally found someone to match his freak

-cutie disposable camera pics :(((

-u letting him go through your photo albums and he's cheesing, picking up the pictures with such care, not wanting to ruin them but wanting to get a closer look

-forcing him to get out of the house by noon and touch grass

-and he'll groan and grumble as you drag his ass out of bed

-but some of his favorite moments with you are in an ambient cafe or at the park, people watching, getting some work done, or just enjoying one another's presence

-reading to him 🤭 and him giving commentary on whatever you read

-"Have you heard about-"

"Probably not."

-him dragging you kicking and screaming back onto the internet (you don't actually mind)

-just bc the content is so good

-making you sit beside him while he scrolls through his reddit or tiktok submissions

-and when you're inevitably confused and a little disturbed he'll go on a tangent to explain why what he's showing you is funny

-multiple viral clips of him explaining internet lore to you

"This one goes all the way back to vine-"

"Oh, I remember vine!"

"Pause, you were on vine?"

"No."

-chat's only real access to you is through him, not even the sleuthiest internet stalkers are able to find you

-so ofc they're all vying for your attention on the occasion that you appear on stream

-you stop in to drop off a snack or water or sth and he's like

"Wait stay 🥺"

and you're like

"No."

-so the internet watches him wrangle you into a bean bag chair and just chill there for the rest of the stream

-sometimes you'll interact and give input, most of the time it's not too dissimilar from having one of the cats in the background

-with you just chilling doing your own thing in the background, often with one of the said cats curled in your lap

-the internet screaming and crying and shitting its pants because they KNOW there's untapped jambo and [redacted] content on your phone that they'll never get to see

-i feel like the disconnect between his work and his personal life (you) could kind of be a double edged sword

-bc on one end, when he's with you he gets to completely remove himself from anything work related and really unwind

-on the other, sometimes the two of you will struggle to relate to one another bc of how differently your work and social lives operate

-anyways

-chatting on stream and he has to scramble to clap a hand over your mouth bc you still don't quite have the "influencer" rules down, like not providing any real names or locations or anything like that

-there being a certain subsection of viewers who are dedicated to finding out everything they can abt u which is kinda freaky

-but it makes casually dropping lore sososo fun

-him ranting about twitch/youtube beef or whatever and he's using people's usernames instead of real names out of habit

-there's a break in his tirade and he turns to where you're sitting at the counter, listening very intently and nodding

"Right, right... and these are people we're talking about?"

-traveling with him 😭

-he was completely prepared to be leading you around japan

-but you've been without iphone for so long that you still have the lost skill of rawdogging the world

-he gets the two of you lost by getting on the wrong train, because some app something or other was lagging

-the train dropping you off at some fuckass station in rural Japan and he's panicking but you BOSS that shit

-him being nervy about you meeting his friends because he KNOWS they might seem a little odd to any other traditionally adjusted adult

-nd you having to be like "I put up with your shit all the time."

-and of COURSE it goes well because why wouldn't it

- “who put this regular-ass cat in the zoo”

-he thinks it was a success

-until you call him a rizzler in the car on the way home

-him freezing and turning in his seat to stare at you for a beat

"... Who taught you that?"

"I've been sworn to secrecy."

-coming to your apartment the first time and being a little appalled at the fact that you still watch cable television

"I don't know how you fuckin' live with these ads every three seconds..."

"The TV is usually only on when you're here, my love."

-CLOCKED

-you have a really old pc set in your house for when you have to answer emails at home

-im talking like iMac G3

-he's figuring out how to stream on that shit, he doesn't care if it KILLS HIM

-overall

-i think chronically offline gf would be his PEACE

-no sigma, no rizz, no skibbidi toilet

-bringing in a sense of normalcy that grounds him in a way he didn't even know he needed

[watermelonlovershigh]

Spontaneous Pleasures {part 7.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: we're getting so close to them actually having sex. then after that, it'll go back to more mundane things they do in their everyday lives. sorry i keep dragging this on but i'm having fun writing this series. enjoy!!! and make sure to leave your ideas and feedback!!! xoxo

This story contains: fingering (both pussy & ass) blowjob, analingus, aftercare, comfort

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - au!harry - softrry }

word count- 2,159

After Harry spontaneously fingers you during what started out as one of your typical movie nights, you get a wave of dominance come over you, leading you to get on your knees and sucking Harry's cock while also eating and fingering his pretty little ass hole for the first time.

> A few days later

"Har....H..Harry, mhm fuck!" you moan in pleasure as Harry fucks you with his fingers. What started out as a casual movie night, cuddling on the couch, soon turned into more when Harry's hand slipped into your yoga pants. Of course, there were kisses exchanged as well.

Grinning from ear to ear, he dirty talks, "Yeah, feels good baby? M' I makin' you feel so good? Fuckin' you with my, long, thick, fingers? Hmh?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" is all you're able to chant. It's rare for you to get fingered unless someone else fingers you. The angle at which you need to be fingered is something you've always found difficult to do to yourself. So you generally stick to clitoral stimulation or one of your dildos. But on the rare occasion you do get fingered, it feels amazing, when done right of course.

As Harry continues finger blasting you in the middle of his living room, on his sofa, he starts applying pressure to your clit with his palm, enhancing the sensation and causing your body to arch from its reclined position. The moist, squelching sounds reverberate throughout the walls of the house. Overwhelmed by immense pleasure, your mind becomes hazy and your toes begin to curl.

"You gonna come for me? Can feel you clenchin' down on my fingers."

You respond with a nod and out of nowhere, your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave. The intense pleasure you've been holding in your stomach erupts, creating a display of fireworks behind your closed eyelids. Your body trembles, your back stays arched, and your legs quiver as if they might close.

As you begin to come down from your euphoric state, the words "Oh my God!!" instinctively escape your mouth. Harry continues to pleasure you until he notices the signs of overstimulation and gradually withdraws. Now you find yourself lying on the couch, breathing heavily, as you attempt to regain your composure.

Rising to his feet, Harry states, "I'll be right back. Gonna get somethin' to clean you up with." While he's away, your senses begin to awaken again and you become aware of just how horny you still are.

Upon Harry's return, he cleans up the mess between your legs that he created from the spontaneous fingering session. Once he's finished with that, in a display of dominance from your horniness reappearing, you assert yourself by pushing him onto the couch and positioning yourself on the floor between his legs. Before Harry can utter a word of inquiry, you swiftly lower the front of his sweatpants, and he willingly aids in pulling them down even more until he's able to kick them off to the side of the couch.

His penis springs forth, looking as appetizing as ever. You reach forward and encircle his large shaft with your small hand, causing him to recoil slightly due to its sensitivity. Harry remains quiet, allowing you to have your way with him but his mouth is dropped open in an 'o' shape, breaths becoming heavier and more pronounced with each touch you give to him. Finally, you rise to your knees and lean over his lap, taking his dick into your mouth.

Upon feeling the head of his cock touch the back of your throat, he breaks his silence with a quiet curse of, "Shit" You adjust to accommodate to his size by tugging on what doesn't fit in your mouth, making Harry believe he's in heaven. Little does he know though, that what you have planned next will take him beyond the heavenly gates.

While removing your mouth from his cock, you continue to provide consistent strokes with your right hand as your face travels lower. When your mouth grazes over his testicles, Harry assumes you might engage in licking or sucking them, which he'd find incredibly satisfying. However, you exceed his expectations by bypassing his balls and positioning your mouth face to face with his puckering hole.

The act of performing analingus has never been your preference. You have only done it once, and that was with someone you knew very well. You would never entertain the idea of engaging in it with a one-night stand, as you had no way of knowing their level of cleanliness or when they last used the restroom.

However, you feel comfortable doing it for Harry. You're aware that he maintains excellent personal hygiene, especially when it comes to his bum, thanks to his experiences with men. He's well-versed in the practice of keeping his anus clean through regular douching and ensuring it remains free of excessive hair.

After gathering your courage with a deep breath, you plunge headfirst into the task at hand. Your tongue encounters the tense ring of muscles and slowly pushes its way inside. "What r' you doin'?" Harry blurts out. It's not that he dislikes what you're doing, because he fucking loves what you're doing. It's simply surprising, as he never envisioned you as someone who would engage in such activities. Nevertheless, he feels incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

You pull away quickly with a smirk. Despite feeling a bit nervous about whether or not what you did was acceptable, you can see from his expressions that he thoroughly enjoyed it. "Did you like that? I bet you like having your little ass played with, don't you? I wonder if you'd ever let me fuck it. Would you? Maybe with one of my dildos, or I could purchase a strap-on. If I bought a strap-on, perhaps I could also fuck your throat. Just like you allowed that other woman to do. Make you choke and gag on my fake cock."

Harry has never seen you so confident with your dirty words. It probably has something to do with the orgasm he previously gave you. You're still out of it, he concludes as an explanation. And you referencing something he admitted happened in his past during that card game a week or two ago, he was hoping that by sharing that event, maybe, just maybe you'd get some curiosity and fantasize about trying it out on him. He guesses his plan worked.

Still breathing rather heavy, Harry answers back, "Y/n, you can do whatever you want with me. Anythin'. Nothin' is off limits." And he truly means that. You want to fuck his ass? He'll get on his hands and knees this instant. You want to fuck his throat? He'll open his mouth so wide his jaw threatens to snap. You want to tie him up one day? He'll tie himself up for you, if that's even possible. He'll be your submissive. The only catch is, you've gotta let him do the same things to you.

"Good to know." is all you say before continuing where you left off. You lubricate his tight hole with your tongue before slipping it inside and fucking him with it. Your right hand picks up its speed on his cock. Harry grabs the backs of his thighs to hold his legs open for you, his feet propped up on the edge of the couch, which you greatly appreciate.

After a minute of continuous action, Harry is nearing orgasm. His legs quiver, his breathing becomes strained, and his stomach muscles contract. As soon as you feel his cock twitch in your hand, you remove your mouth from his hole and proceed to place his dick back into your mouth. Although you don't neglect his bum hole. Slowly, you guide your left hand down until it reaches his tightening hole, then smoothly easing inside without any resistance thanks to the lingering saliva left from your mouth..

Just as you insert your fingers, Harry announces, "Y/n, baby, m' gonna come." True to his words, he ejaculates, releasing his warm jizz all over your tongue as you skillfully pleasure him. Simultaneously, you continue to stimulate his anus, ensuring he experiences the utmost pleasure.

Even after his orgasm subsides, you persist in pleasuring him with your mouth and fingers until he physically has to push you away, stating, "Enough, baby. M' too sensitive now." When he uses the endearing term, "baby," it fills you with warmth. Though it's mostly been used during intimate moments. You eagerly anticipate the day when he will use it more frequently and not just during your sexual activities.

With a pop, you release Harry's softening penis from your mouth and retract your fingers from his ass hole. Harry is left on the couch, panting like a dehydrated dog. He's trying to compose himself after what just occurred. You stand up on sore legs, from the hard floor that is, and go to the bathroom to get a damp cloth for cleaning him up with. He deserves aftercare too. While in the bathroom, you also wipe away the arousal that formed between your legs and change into a clean pair of panties.

Upon your return, Harry remains in the same position where you left him. However, there is a slight change as his head now rests against the back of the couch, eyes closed, and he's no longer holding his legs up. You step in between his legs and speak softly, "Let me clean you off" He raises his head slightly, his eyes barely open, and notices that you hold a damp cloth in your hands. Without uttering a word, he spreads his legs to provide you with more space and just silently observes as you lean down and meticulously cleanse his genitals, followed by his wet ass.

Harry's sensitivity causes him to hiss, but he relaxes once you're done. Placing the damp cloth on the coffee table, you stand up and reach for Harry's hands. "Let's go to bed. We're both knackered." Harry takes your hands and stands up with your assistance. Upon standing, he notices something shiny on the floor.

"What's that?" Harry questions looking downwards, prompting you to cast a glance downwards as well, seeking to identify what he's referring to. It's in that moment that you become aware of a small puddle, evidence of your overwhelming arousal while you were pleasuring him. Although you were conscious of your heightened state of arousal, you didn't realize it had reached a point where it leaked onto the FUCKING floor. This situation is unbelievably humiliating.

Stumbling over your words, you reply, "Ohh, um, well doing what I did to you got me wet. Like really wet. I didn't realize it dripped on the floor though. I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed, Y/n," Harry says softly, his hands cupping your face. "M' actually flattered that I got you so wet. It's an easy fix, we'll clean it up." With a nod of agreeance, you observe as Harry retrieves the cloth from the coffee table and bends down to eliminate the small puddle. In a matter of seconds, the area is completely cleaned and you both proceed to Harry's room where you'll be staying for the night.

Once in Harry's room, you go to slide under the covers when Harry suddenly asks, "Can we sleep naked?"

"Um, yeah if you want. But why?" Not that you have anything against sleeping naked but normally whenever you've shared a bed with each other, you have some form of clothes on. Typically you in an oversized t-shirt and panties, Harry in just his briefs.

As you both proceed to remove your remaining clothes, Harry answers, "I don't know. Just want to feel close to you, s'all. Your warm and your boobs make great pillows." That garners a laugh from you.

Now fully nude, he turns the one lamp that remained on, off and you each get under the duvet. "Come over here then." you instruct Harry. "Your pillows are waiting for you." He slides across the bed until he's settled by your side and gently places his head on your nearest breast while his top arm is slung across your belly.

In this moment, Harry realizes just how much he loves you. Never in a million years did he think he'd fall in love with the shy, timid girl who accepted his housemate position all those months ago. But gradually, after becoming friends, he realized how much fun you are to be around. How comforting your presence is. How you make him feel safe and warm. How you never judge him for his sexuality and accept him for who he is. He knows in this exact moment he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and you haven't even had sex yet.

But without a shadow of a doubt, he knows you'll be the best sex he's ever had and he has a feeling it's going to happen sooner than you anticipated. Like really soon. He can feel the sexual tension every time you do other sexual things. Tensions that make you just want to scream, "fuck me already." Soon can't come fast enough.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

The Next Morning {part. 8} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

[creepswrites]

DIRT ROADS | Lester x Reader

rereading some of my old writing renewed my love for writing this scruffy man <3 this is also slightly self indulgent oops

LESTER SINCLAIR X GN!READER

SUMMARY: The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

The sound of the sputtering of your car engine made you groan, your forehead bumping against the steering wheel in quite frustration. Overhead, raindrops pattered harshly against the top of your car like small marbles and you heard the way your wheels dug into the muddy roads. This was not the place you wanted to get stuck in.

"I told you we'd get stuck out here!" Your friend Sadie huffed in exasperation, throwing her hands up in defeat. "If we had just turned back and asked for directions," She trailed off, shooting a pointed glare at the two guys in the backseat, "We wouldn't be in this mess!"

Robbie - Sadie's long-term boyfriend, though you weren't exactly sure why, seeing as they argued more often then not - just scoffed at his girlfriend's frustrations. "Look, let's just get out of the car and fuckin' push, alright?"

"Can't," You sighed as you lifted your head up. "The front wheels are trapped in the mud. Pushin' will just get us more stuck."

"Well what the fuck else are we supposed to do?" Robbie shouted before swinging the door open and stomping out into the pouring rain, uncaring of how his hair and clothes quickly became soaked.

When he did, his friend who sat beside him - Leon, you think was his name - quickly shuffled out to join him. Leon was nicer than Robbie but was a bit of a pushover. This camping trip the four of you planned was mostly Sadie's attempts to pair you up with Leon despite both of your resistances on the matter.

"Honestly," Sadie sighed, "That guy just can't take no for an answer."

You hummed, disinterested in her latest "Robbie Rant" as you'd taken to calling them. "I still think this whole camping thing is a bad idea. Even if we'll be in a cabin." You weren't exactly enthusiastic at the idea of listening to Sadie argue with her boyfriend for a long weekend while you sat awkwardly next to Leon.

"Don't be such a downer," Sadie said as she poked your cheek with a pointy, baby blue nail. "The rain'll pass, babe. It always does."

When you heard the sound of your car door open, a blast of cold air hitting your body, you turned your head and were met with a worried look on Robbie's face. "Hey, uh, there's... some dude over here." He gestured with a thumb, arms crossed over his chest to try and protect himself from the chilled rain. "He's, uh, offerin' to tow us to the nearest town."

You perked your head up. "Oh! Sure, okay, yeah." Frankly you were just relieved the four of you weren't going to have to camp out in the car or, god forbid, walk through the rain and dark foresty area in hopes of finding civilization.

"Yeah, I wouldn't get too excited." Robbie mumbled as you poked your head out to look behind your car. "Dude's kinda weird."

A scrawny looking man stood slumped against a silver truck chatting to Leon, seemingly unbothered by the rain. When he caught your eye, he tilted his green cap in greeting and gave you a wide gap toothed smile as he made his way towards you. Outwardly, you didn't see anything wrong with him. Maybe a little scruffy but nothing outwardly strange. "Hey there," He said with such a heavy southern drawl it made your eyes feel droopy, "Saw y'all got stuck. I might be able 't tow ya back to town. It ain't far, but you folks'll probably wanna ride with me. 'Case stuff gets too bumpy."

You considered his offer for a moment. The idea of shelter was too tempting to ignore, however... "That's awfully kind of you," You said slowly, watching his smile soften into something more genuine, "What's the catch?"

"Ain't no catch, honest." He said as he slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Robbie gave him a weird look but you ignored it, keeping your focus on the stranger. "Jus' happened to be in the neighborhood on my way back home. Saw y'all broke down 'n figured I'd lend a hand."

Your shoulders dropped slightly. As in most situations, you had to trust your gut. And your gut said that you could trust him. So you held out your hand to shake his, introducing yourself. "How close is this town?"

"Jus' a few miles back down this road here 'n a few left turns." The stranger offered a hand to help you out of your car and you flinched at the sight of thick mud below you. "'m Lester, by the way. Lester Sinclair." He said, noticing your apprehension at the dirt. "Ain't one for mud?" He gave a light laugh.

"Not if I can help it," You sighed. It wouldn't normally bother you but you hadn't worn shoes you could afford to get dirty. The storm had caught you all by surprise.

Before you could step out, Lester gave you a nudge. "Here, put'cher arms 'round me."

You flushed and stared at him with wide, confused eyes. He just gave you a grin as he hooked your knees in the crook of his elbow. "I- You don't have to- I can-" You stammered out nervously. Sure, you didn't really want to get your shoes dirty, but Lester didn't have to carry you!

"Up we go!" Lester said with a dramatic flair, causing you to shriek in terror as you were lifted out up of your seat. You clung to him tight to avoid falling into the mud and he gave you a little spin, making you bury your face into his shoulder as you begged him not to drop you.

The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

"Hey, put 'em the fuck down!" Robbie said. You'd honestly forgot he was there for a moment. But he stepped towards you two like he intended to yank you from the other man's arms like a toddler wanting its toy back.

Lester shot him a look before glancing down at you, as though silently asking if Robbie was bothering you. Like Lester himself wasn't the stranger in the situation. "Alrighty then. Why don't you grab the girl so we can get on outta here?" He said before carrying you back towards his truck without looking back.

When you saw the truck, you understood why Robbie and Leon looked so anxious about going inside. You could see what looked to be small animal bones dangling like strings of beads woven together with feathers and rough strings. They all looked very homemade but pretty in their own way. At least to you they were.

What really caught your attention was the deer skull sitting on the dashboard as the pride of place. "You hunt?" You asked Lester as he walked around to the passenger side door.

He noticed you eyeing the deer skull and shrugged. "That depends."

"Depends?"

"Well I gotta impress you, don't I? Ain't every day I get to carry some pretty thing to my truck. Can't letcha think 'm a bad guy if I do hunt." He said casually before gesturing to the door handle. "Can you grab that?"

You opened the door and let him set you on the seat, his words not quite registering as you focused on the skull, fingers grazing it but not quite touching. "I think it's cool," You said with a quiet awe. "I like taxidermy, so bones don't put me off."

Lester seemed surprised by that. You could hear the sounds of Robbie and Sadie arguing again - likely because he wasn't offering to carry her like Lester had done for you - but you hardly cared with him looking at you like that. Like he was swooning.

"So y'ain't gonna be bothered by the roadkill I got in the back?" He asked, leaning against the car door as you admired the bones hung around the interior.

"Nope. Not even a little. Do you make these yourself?" You asked, fingers dancing lightly down a particularly pretty string of feathers and bones.

Lester swallowed and nodded, a little breathless when he spoke. "Yeah. Yeah. Make 'em myself, yeah." He sounded a little nervous, trying to hide his excitement at your genuine interest. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna get yer car set up for towin' 'n whatnot. You alright if I borrow your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." You shrugged before focusing back on him. "Much less Robbie. He's kind of a douchebag."

"You don't have a boyfriend?" Lester looked genuinely shocked.

You laughed a little. "You sound like my parents." Your tone was light, teasing, and a sharp contrast to the sudden hurricane that was Sadie climbing into the backseat of the truck, arguing loudly with Robbie. As suspected, he had not want to carry her and she had to walk.

You and Lester shared an exhausted look before he stepped away to get the cables to tow your car. Meanwhile, you tucked into the front seat, admiring every knickknack and oddity you could see. It felt almost cozy. Lester likely spent a lot of time in here to warrant such a comfortable, familiar space. He'd mentioned roadkill in the back of the truck so you figured he drove around for long hours picking it up.

He was utterly fascinating. You'd never met anyone like him.

"Dude, this guy is a freak," Sadie whisper-yelled to be heard over the rain as she slammed her door. You left the your own door open to enjoy the cool air a bit longer after being stuck in a stuffy car for the past four hours. "His car's full of dead things!" She hissed at you.

"Doesn't bother me." You said absently, far too focused on the skull again. It was in beautiful condition, clearly well taken care of. If Lester did really hunt, you hoped it was humane. But you reassured yourself that he didn't seem like someone who hated animals.

Sadie scoffed as she slumped in the backseat. The anger from her argument with Robbie was starting to leak into your conversation with her and it pissed you off. But you held your tongue, knowing better than to push her. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't mind your new weirdo boyfriend and his freaky shit." She laughed with a mocking tone. "Must be nice to meet some random fucking guy on the side of the road and he's soooo perfect and thoughtful and carries you to his car. Definitely matches your freak."

You ignored her.

It didn't take long for the guys to finish attaching your car to the truck and everyone piled in the truck, Lester closing his door with a dramatic flair and giving you a smile. "Alrighty, lets head on back. Town's just a couple minutes away." He said, making sure to take wide turns to avoid scratching up the car too much.

"Is there a hotel in town there?" Sadie asked, fidgeting with a strand of her wet hair.

"Yeah, should be. The inn ain't get much business this far out here so there oughta be rooms." Lester said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Where ya folks headed?"

When the three in the back said nothing, you spoke up after an awkward beat of silence. Just because your friends didn't like the dead things didn't mean Lester was a bad guy. "Headin' towards Arkansas. We've got a little cabin there that we want to stay at for a few days."

"Special occasion?" Lester asked curiously.

"Just a double date weekend." Sadie chimed in, smirking a bit in Leon and Robbie's direction. "We've been meaning to take a break together.

You flinched at the implication you were dating Leon. Lester seemed to notice that and gave you a reassuring smile. "Sounds fun." He said aloud, though you could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Robbie, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"How long've you been dating 'em?" He tilted his head towards you, smiling at Robbie in the rearview mirror. "Hope I didn't give ya the wrong impression when I carried 'em over. I know you got defensive 'bout it 'n all."

The backseat erupted into absolute chaos. You turned to level Lester with an unimpressed look and the man had the audacity to give you an innocent little smile.

Jerk. You snorted, rolled your eyes, and turned your head to look out the window, watching the raindrops fall on the slightly fogged glass and the brush of the forest passing by in blurs of murky greens and browns.

Ambrose wasn't far, true to Lester's word. The town was small, only a few dozen houses and no major chain stores, much to Sadie's disappointment. Just little mom and pop type places. Lester towed your car to the nearby gas station outside the auto shop and you became suddenly aware of how empty the town felt. No one was outside but you didn't think it was because of the rain.

Your friends got out of the truck, eager to get away from the bones and the smell of rot, but you stayed in with Lester for a minute. "Where is everyone?"

"Hm?" Lester asked, looking innocently curious. "Whaddya mean?"

When he didn't say anything else, you just sighed. "Nevermind," you mumbled as you reached for the door.

"Wait." He said, his voice low. You turned to look at him and he seemed... guilty? He chewed nervously on his bottom lip before making a gesture to the glove box. "Open it."

So you did. Laying atop some piles of paper was a simple, silver pocketknife. "What the-?"

"In case." Lester said, pulling it out and handing it to you expectantly.

"In case of what?" You frowned as alarm bells began to ring in your head. "What do you mean?

Lester's eyes darted quickly over your shoulder before he looked back at you. You didn't get the chance to look over your shoulder when he reached up, cupping your face with one hand to keep your eyes on him. "I ain't- I ain't s'pposed to do this. Y'can't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Your fear must have been obvious at this point, seeing as Lester flinched.

"Look," he sighed, taking your hand and squeezing it in his own. "I can't- I wanna tell ya, believe me. But I ain't s'pposed to 'n it kills me." He looked genuinely sorry for whatever it was he was doing, which only scared you more. "But if ya take it, you'll be-"

A loud knock on the window made you scream, scooting away from the door with a look of terror, not even care that you practically slammed into Lester's chest as you threw yourself across the center console. Staring at you from the window was a man dressed in a mechanic jumpsuit with a baseball cap on. He opened the door without prompting and gave you a smile that made you feel greasy just looking at him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." The stranger said with a warm tone. "'m name's Bo. I work at the autoshop here."

You introduced yourself cautiously, glancing out the windshield and noticing the way Sadie practically swooned over Bo while Robbie and Leon looked ready to punch the daylights out of this guy.

You didn't trust him. Not one bit.

"Pretty sure that's my brother you're sittin' on." Bo said with another acidic smile.

"Oh." You said, still pressed against Lester's side with no real interest in moving. The pocketknife was still clenched tightly in your fist and you still didn't feel safe.

Lester just laughed. "Aw, it ain't no problem Bo. We were chattin' 'bout their car actually. Might need ya to check it out, just in case."

Bo hazarded a glance at your car. "Yeah, alright, I'll take a look. Wanna come with me?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Everything in your body screamed at you to stay away from this guy.

"Actually Bo," Lester spoke up, your saving grace, "I was plannin' on chattin' 'bout taxidermy with 'em. If ya don't mind."

Bo did, in fact, seem to mind. His perfect facade seemed to flicker, an annoyed look passing his over his face as quick as it came. "Lester, ain't it a better idea for them to be here with their car?"

"I trust you!" You nearly yelled, grabbing your car keys and stuffing them into Bo's extended hand. "You seem like you know what you're doing! Any questions and you can ask Robbie, he's better with cars than me anyways."

You felt Lester relax when Bo just sighed loudly. "Alright, if you insist," He clutched the keys in his fist and the look he gave you made chills run down your spine. "Enjoy your date, lil' bro."

"Thanks man!" Lester said as Bo slammed the door shut, rattling the whole car. "You alright?" He asked softly once his older brother had stormed off in the direction of your friends.

You scooted back slightly to give him some space, sliding back into your actual seat. "I know he's your brother but... he's so..."

He laughed. "Aggressive? Yeah, he can be. Ain't his fault but it does make bringin' people here tricky." Lester said before gesturing out the window towards your friends, watching Sadie hang off Bo's every word. "Seems to work on your friends jus' fine."

"Not me." You hummed, watching the four of them go inside the auto shop. "I usually have a good read on people. And he's, uh, not good."

"Is that so?" Lester said softly. "Well, y'sure as hell got a good radar then. Figured him out real quick."

You gave Lester a glance, noting the somber look on his face. "What do you mean by it being safer to bring the knife?"

The man chewed on his bottom lip, seeming to mull his options over in his head. "I can't tell ya," He said slowly, "Because then I'd have to kill ya." When you laughed nervously, he just gave you a serious look. "'m serious. I ain't s'pposed to tell strangers what's goin' on."

Cold dread seemed to drench you instantly. "What?" You whispered in horror.

"I can tell ya if you promise not to do anythin' though." He soothed, taking your hand in his. He kept glancing over your shoulder as though expecting Bo to reappear at any moment. "If ya wanna know, you can't get involved."

"Just tell me!" You pleaded, the pocketknife still tight in your fist.

Lester sighed, letting go of your hand and staring out the window, letting the muffled sounds of rain pass through you two as though trying to literally clean the air. When he looked up at you, his eyes once again darting over your shoulder. He let out a soft gasp of surprise and fumbled to turn his car back on, letting it spur to life as you turned to look.

Robbie stumbled out of the auto shop, covered in blood and screaming. He was beelining for you, his screams drowned out by the car engine and the storm. You went to unlock the door but you watched the locks engage. Robbie yanked on the door handle frantically, screaming something about Bo having killed Leon.

But you didn't even have time to react as Lester threw the car in reverse and took off, leaving you horrified and confused. You rounded on him immediately. "We need to help!"

"I can't get involved!" Lester said, looking as panicky as you. "I- I ain't a fan of what they do either but I-" He stammered, torn between focusing on the road and trying to placate you.

"Did Bo kill Leon?!" You gasped in horror.

Lester gave you a helpless look. "I- Maybe? I- I dunno, he's killed a lotta people at this point." He squinted, trying to navigate the rain that began to streak across the windshield with how fast he was driving, obscuring a lot of the vision outside. "He 'n Vinny've been doin' this for ages now!"

"Doing- Doing what?!" You felt frantic, yanking on the car door with no real luck. What would you even do if it opened? Where could you go?

"Killin' people!" Lester said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. "They've been killin' people and I don't get involved. 'n if you value your life, you shouldn't either."

He slammed hard on the breaks just before the front of the car slammed into a tree. The two of you let out a shared sigh and slumped over.

"'m sorry sweetpea." Lester said quietly, leaning against his steering wheel as exhaustion seemed to set in. "Was followin' y'all. 's how I found ya. Was gonna ship ya off to Bo 'n Vince but you were so..." He lifted his head to look at you with soft, glassy eyes. "'m so sorry."

You trembled, still breathing heavy. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No." Lester's answer was immediate. "I ain't a killer. Not like my brothers are." He looked like he wanted to reach for you again, remorse clear on his face. "'m really sorry. Honest. I-"

"Are my friends going to die?" You asked, your voice warbling slightly. "Did- Did you just drive away from my dying friends?" He turned his head to look at you and gave you a slow nod. You let out a quiet gasp, scooting away from him until your back was up against the door. "Let me out! I need to go help them!"

Lester shook his head helplessly. "I can't. Bo's already seen ya 'n if you go after him, he'll kill ya too."

"Then why give me a knife?!"

"I just-" Lester sighed. "I just didn't want you to go down easy. Ain't no one ever escape my brothers. They're brutal 'n dedicated. I... I didn't want you to get hurt."

A lapse of silence passed between you two, the only sound coming from the rain. Lester buried his face back into his arms while you tried to come to terms with what you'd learnt. Lester's brothers abducted and killed people. And Lester had just served your friends up to Bo on a silver platter, but not you.

You had a knife, still clenched in your fist, and you could probably get the jump on Lester if you had to. You could steal his car and go rescue them or, at the very least, escape.

But you didn't want to hurt Lester...

"Why didn't you let me go with them?" You finally asked with a resigned sigh.

Lester looked up with tired, sad eyes. "Didn't want em to have ya. 'Cus you're a good, kind person 'n you trusted me. Felt like I was betraying ya. So I saw an openin' and I took it."

You nodded slowly. "So what now?"

"Well, ya got a few choices actually." Lester said as he straightened up. "You could go back. Try your luck against my brothers, try 'n save your friends. Or," He said with a shy glance your way, "You could come with me."

"Where would we go?"

Lester motioned out the windshield. "I got a lil' house in the woods nearby. We could hold down till the storm passes." Big brown eyes focused on you as he nervously wrung his hands. "I'd, uh, have to introduce you to my brothers in the morning. But I'd protect ya. Let 'em know you're with me now."

You felt your face heat up and you hated yourself for it. Your friends were being killed and the guy who led them to their deaths was making you blush like a schoolchild with a crush. You couldn't help it though. Lester was sweet, in the short time you'd met him. He didn't want to see you hurt and did what he could to protect you.

"With you?" You teased him with a wet chuckle. And your smile grew when you saw the way the tips of Lester's ears burned with how hard he blushed.

He gave you a shy nod. "Y-yeah. If you're with me, then- then they won't bother ya. Not killable anymore." You reached over and took his hands gently, uncaring of the dirt and roughness there. "You couldn't leave though."

A sigh left your lips. "I either stay or die?"

Lester looked close to tears when he nodded. "'m really sorry, sweetpea, I really am. Should'a never gone after ya." He freed one of his hands to cup your face gently, his touch soft despite the roughness of his hands and the guilt in his eyes.

You two sat there for awhile before you nodded, swallowing back a sob of your own. "Okay," You sighed, "Okay, I'll go with you."

He gave you a look of utter relief, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll keep ya safe, sweetpea. I promise."

When you pulled him in for a hug, your face buried in his shoulder, you let your shoulders relax. And you let yourself believe him.

[smoft-demons]

What if pacts gave you spells

I’ve had another idea!!

Demons in this setting are pretty fuckin magic. MC as well, has some funny magic going on in the late game iirc. What if the magic started showing up sooner, specifically because of the pacts?? What if the avatars have specific themed abilities and you get powered down versions of those powers through the pact? Ive been having Ideas about it!!

In pact order:

_______

Mammon is the avatar of greed. Money and stuff is his thing. So I think his pact, at a low level, should give you a heat metal spell. I imagine HE has a summon-molten-metal ability that he can use in combat, because that’d be awesome. It’d be a real no holds barred type of move, because like,, being burned to death in molten metal is a REAL brutal way to go. He’s a demon tho. I think it would make some sense for him to be able to do it.

Gravity magic also makes sense for Mammon. Black holes be greedy. The vibe seems right. The dunamancy spell Ravenous Void is pretty much what I’m thinking.

Mammon’s really fast too. So maybe he can give you haste, longstrider, misty step… maybe blink.

Another thing in Mammon’s wheelhouse is gambling. Luck, stacking chances in your favour and all that. So let’s have him give you something like silvery barbs too. Something that lets you skew chance in your favour when you need to.

I’d say the list of spells you get from him goes like: heat metal and longstrider at first. Then you get stronger after season 1, and you get misty step, something along the lines of silvery barbs, and haste (to make others faster I think is a higher level thing than making yourself faster). When you’re MUCH stronger, you get ravenous void. Maybe you get a weaker version earlier.

No matter what tho, no one’s version of that black hole spell is stronger than Mammon’s.

_______

Then you pact with Leviathan. He’s a sea serpent, and he’s the grand admiral of hell’s navy. I’d imagine he’s crazy good with navigation and has a sea monster form, on top of the other abilities he canonically has (summoning Lotan, making floods, etc)

I’d say Levi’s pact gives you: create water, find familiar (because Lotan), breathing underwater and some magical ability that helps you not get lost. At a higher level, you get to summon a powerful water elemental. Maybe even a wildshape-esque ability that is specifically for turning into a sea serpent.

I would also say it’s Levi’s pact that gives you darkvision. You really need it if you’re going in deep water. Also, if ANYONE of these seven can give you the classic warlock spell Eldritch blast, it’d be Levi. It’s not very high level, you can have it early on.

_______

Beel’s gluttony, and honestly black holes fit him too. But I think that’s such an absurdly OP thing that it HAS to go to Mammon.

Beel is also a tank. He’s a protector. He’s real strong and resilient and he’s the type to purposely take damage in order to save someone he loves from having to. In the game he makes the pact with the implication that he wants you to have it so he can protect you next time. So I think he wouldn’t WANT to encourage his human to do the same tank thing as him, but still I think his pact would help you do that. It would just make you stronger and more durable I think.

That bit is less a spell and more an ability score increase. Raises your strength and constitution.

Of the actual spells tho, there’s gotta be something abjuration. Some magic shield spell kind of thing. Also, obviously some way to create food. Maybe when you’re stronger you get hero’s feast. Some way to summon a swarm of locusts is on theme for Beel. Also, his telepathic connection with Belphie makes me think of message.

I think Beel wants you to have feather fall. I think that might be one of his first priorities.

So his list would go: feather fall, some magic shield, message, and the constitution increase. Then at a higher level, the strength increase, summon locusts, and create/summon food. Even higher, hero’s feast or something like it…

The summoning food spells is not really a thing I think Beel can do/an ability he can share through the pact, but I think he deserves to be able to give you that. He would just like to be able to do that. Why not let him.

_______

Next pact is Asmo. The most obvious thing for him is a charisma buff.

Then in terms of spells, suggestion makes a lot of sense. So does friends, disguise self, vicious mockery, and minor illusion. Later on, mass suggestion and crown of madness.

He’s not usually the very aggressive sort, though of course I don’t put violence past him at all. Bloodlust is still lust, after all. Passion is kinda his whole domain. No, Asmo is VERY capable of violence I’m sure, he just doesn’t indulge in it often because he likes his pristine image and others’ tendencies to underestimate him far more.

With that in mind, maybe some kind of slow acting necromantic curse makes sense for the offensive move he’d give you. Some way to magically give someone a dose of venom in their veins just by touching them.

Canonically in the game Asmo basically uses dominate beast (on Henry 1.0 in the catacombs under the demon king’s castle) but I can’t help but associate that more with Lucifer (because Cerberus) so I kind of want to give it to him instead… but Asmo literally DID it so…

I think Asmo’s list goes: suggestion, vicious mockery, friends, disguise self. Then the charisma increase, casting illusions (minor or otherwise), and crown of madness. Then mass suggestion, dominate beast, and the venom spell. That seems right.

_______

Then it’s Satan’s turn.

Ok so the most obvious thing for him as the avatar of wrath is giving you a whole ass level in barbarian. The rage ability. And like,, that works, but like… doesn’t super match his personality. Controlling his wrath is more what he seems to care about.

If the spells he can give you are chosen by him, then I think you’d get comprehend languages, speak with animals, legend lore, that kind of thing.

But if it’s not his choice, then the ability to rage. In terms of spells, stuff like blight, finger of death, fireball, meteor swarm, disintegrate. Dramatically destructive kind of thing.

I’m gonna say it’s probably somewhere in between. You don’t get rage or disintegrate from him, nor all the best of the curious nerd spells. But you DO get: prestidigitation (can start fires OR quickly clean messes, up to you, be smart and crafty to get the most out of it), comprehend languages, firebolt. Later, you get fireball (upgrade for firebolt!) blight, and lets say something electric. Like, being able to electrocute someone by grabbing them.

_______

Now for Belphie!

I can’t help but think of him less in D&D terms and more like,, psychic type Pokémon. That just seems like the right vibe for him.

I wanna say you’d get two necromancy spells after the whole lesson 16 thing—specifically, toll the dead and chill touch. The vibes of toll the dead just seem fitting for some reason, and come ON, chill touch couldn’t possibly be more perfect! It makes a spectral, skeletal hand that clings to your target (around their neck maybe?) to (and I quote!) “assail it with the chill of the grave” which deals necrotic damage and delays healing. It’s PERFECT, okay, except for… it doesn’t make any sense to get those from the pact with Belphie. They have nothing to do with HIM, and everything to do with what he did to you.

Maybe you can get it from the weird resurrection thing that happens instead. All kinds of weird shit can happen when timelines and your life get all fucky like that, I guess. You met a ghost and got shoved back to life and then time got weird, I’m sure at that point anything can happen.

Actually FROM Belphie, the obvious spell you’d get is sleep. Put some bastard to sleep, make them unconscious, that’s his main thing.

I think the list goes: sleep. Then later, with more power, you get confusion (like the Pokémon move)and phantasmal force (the one that projects an illusion only visible to the target, that is able to deal damage to them. Many very creative applications of this spell are possible). At the highest possible level, power word kill. The quickest and laziest possible way to do a murder, as long as you use it right.

_______

Finally, Lucifer.

Big strong powerful Morningstar! Proud bastard that everyone can’t help but listen to.

So OBVIOUSLY you get dominate person from him! (yes, all seven of them have the ability to force a non-MC human to obey them magically but shhh. Lets say only Lucifer can GIVE that ability to a human.)

I think he’d be the one who can give you classic demonic abilities like fire resistance and hellish rebuke. I can’t imagine Lucifer not having some disintegrate-like ability, as the third most powerful demon in the realm.

He can’t give you a whole ass pair of wings, he can’t change the structure of your body, but I think maybe he can give you the fly spell. Or even just something like a double jump and a fully controlled fall. I think that suits him.

Yknow what else suits him? Meteor swarm. Super powerful, dramatically destructive, only the strongest can cast it… flaming destruction falling from the sky… Fall imagery weaponized into an absurdly high damage spell. Seems like Lucifer!

So let’s say his spell list for you is: hellish rebuke and fire resistance (not a spell, but still). Then, dominate person, the flight-adjacent spell, and disintegrate. Then finally, meteor swarm. That seems right.

_______

[peachsukii]

I just thought of something silly! Originally was thinking about Satoru Gojo from JJK for it, but this new thought amused me way too much.

Katsuki can propel himself through the air, not exactly flying, but it is still air travel.

One day, he has you on his back because you sprained your ankle or just cause you asked him cutely for a flying piggy back.

As you 'fly', you get the hilarious idea to sing "A Whole New World" to him, just to see what he would do and how he would react.

oh my god lmao

“Woman, I swear I’ll drop you outta the sky and you’ll be singin’ in hell,” Bakugo curses over his shoulder, grumbling between explosions. “If you’re gonna be annoying, at least be able to sing in the right fuckin’ key.”

“Aww, you’re no fun. You hate being serenaded?”

He scoffs. “No, you’ve sang that shitty song the last four times I’ve carried your ass somewhere. Get new material.”

“So you wanna be serenaded?” You tease, resting your chin on his shoulder. You can see the tips of his ears starting to turn color, fading into a coral glow at your words.

“I will drop you. Don’t think I won’t.”

“The hero in you would scoop me up again in a heartbeat.”

He can’t even argue that logic because he would. Right as you’re about to continue pestering him, the two of you land on your apartment complex rooftop. Bakugo helps you off his back and stands with you for a moment.

“Ya got the words wrong, anyways. It’s ‘a dazzling place I never knew,’ not ‘a sparkling place I never knew’,” he comments before blasting off, leaving you with your thoughts.

So he was listening after all.

[from-vuka]

So... this is a drabble (do ppl still use that word?) for a future idea i have of Ghoap x reader.... lol (i think reader is gender neutral but i could be wrong ;;) not all of it is planned out so there may be gaps but imma rewrite into a whole piece maybe????

Listen idk im still getting used to putting myself out there LMAO

cw: implied cheating towards the end, neglectful relationship (not simon), married! reader, "the one that got away" mentality (idk if this is a cw but i put here)

‧₊*: ⋅ଳ⋅˚₊‧𖦹₊⊹⋆.ೃ��*:･

When they parked, the first question was where to go.

The mission has been a bust. Intel was incorrect or outright wrong, gaps missing in reports that they knew would be a problem later--and they were always right. When shit hit the fan, they knew exactly what to do: collect their people and dip before Laswell had anything to say about shooting at Russian military.

The little SUV they stole was hot, the AC blasting but doing little to quelch the need for water or how sweaty they had gotten running despite the possibility of snow. Price had long since left the car, pacing back and forth as he tried to call Kate. Gaz tinkered on the laptop, seeing if any of the files they were able to download or code ripped from its program could indicate a next step, a lead in the right direction.

Soap and Ghost sat in the trunk; its overhead door open to let in the late autumn breeze.

“Fuck, another night on the fuckin’ ground,” Soap moaned, leaning back against the inner side of the SUV. “Gonna be a rough fu--”

“I know a place,” Simon said quickly, almost too quick. His thumbs, looking too big for the little cracked screen of the iPhone 8 the military gave him (since he refused a smartphone for as long as possible) hit the virtual keyboard. He sent two messages before the machine was buzzing and flashing. He got up, rolled his shoulders, and answered.

Johnny whistled, pulling Gaz from the blue light of his laptop to Simon. His feet paced like John’s but quicker; too much energy for such a short call. His eyes didn’t seem so harsh as he explained the situation, describing his irritation at the whole thing. When he hung up, his body relaxed only a fraction before turning to the car.

“Got us a place to lay low,” He murmured. “Don’t see us getting a hotel from Laswell,” He commented as John cursed and gripped his phone, containing the growing rage for another short while. “Reception out here isn’t gonna happen ‘til the clouds fuck off.”

“The fuck you mean you know a place?” Soap asked, and Simon tugged his arm to pull him out of the trunk.

He closed the trunk door and shoved Soap into the back seat, he himself taking the driver’s seat. John didn’t question their new set-up, sitting in the passenger’s side and pointing the vents at his sweaty skin.

“We’re stayin’ with a friend. Lives remote, no neighbors, little to no internet,” Ghost hummed, pulling off the side of the road and heading to where his GPS blinked in retaliation for the lack of connection.

The team didn’t ask any more questions, too tired from the run to get this shitty little SUV, and instead reflected on the mission and their faults, as if they could have done anything to change the outcome. Bad intel is bad intel—there isn’t a way to fix it or better training to prepare for it. Still, the loss burned their skin like fire ant bites.

At a certain point, the phone stopped giving directions. Gaz questioned it, and Simon’s response made sense: when you live as remote as his friend did, GPS could only take you so far. The rest was muscle memory.

Soap asked him how often he came here. Simon said every time he had to leave the base, get away from the shitty flat he rents only for when he’s off deployments. Most of his possessions, he said, live here. There wasn’t anyone he trusted more than this person.

As they pulled down a dirt road, the first they saw was you.

You stood outside the two-floor cabin, standing on a wrap-around porch, your hands on your hips as you watched the shitty, sad SUV park on the dirt driveway. Simon was the first to pop out despite being the driver, taking big steps up to you and the front door. His body was tense only for a moment before you hugged him hello, silent otherwise, and let him trail mud, dirt, and blood into your home.

The rest watched from the car until you waved them up, turning and heading inside. On edge, they headed into the cabin and found it homey. It wasn’t what they were imagining from previous safe houses: dirty floors with stains and dust; broken or bare furniture, maybe none at all; thick spider webs and old cooking pots.

No, it was homey-homey. The furniture was worn but comfortable, soft blankets and thick pillows over any cushioned surface available. Rugs lined the wooden floors, making pathways for your socked feet. The windows had stained glass art pieces hanging to let the light shine in rainbows, and the few lights that were on at this point in the evening were small table lamps and a candle burning in the renovated and cozy kitchen. They could smell stew cooking on the stovetop and bread baking in the fire oven.

Simon didn’t seem to feel any of the intrusion that they did. His shoes were left by the door, a couple pairs that looked eerily similar lined up on a shoe rack. The coat rack had a mix of grey, Simon-sized hoodies and jackets with fluffy, colorful, graphic jackets that seemed to fit you.

Even as Simon wandered into the kitchen, checking on the stew and bread, he looked like he fit in the small space. He opened the fridge and pulled out a case of ale and a little bottle of wine while you grabbed beer mugs and a few wine glasses. You handed him the bottle openers as he handed you oven mitts for the bread. It was synchronized—Simon had been here enough before to know how you lived and worked.

“Who’s this?” Price asked, breaking the spell between you two. Simon glances at you then at Price.

Simon explained, grinning a little as he did, that you were his best friend of nearly 10 years; that you were the person on his emergency contact and his address when he was deployed. He watched as you started serving the stew and he said that you gave him permission to keep a low profile in your home until Laswell could tell them what to do next. There weren’t any other options available that wouldn’t bring attention to them, unless they wanted to sleep in the woods. Until then, Simon saw no reason to leave this place.

Price wanted to be the one to speak the truth—that Laswell would probably get back to them by morning—but as he watched Simon place full bowls on the kitchen table in the next room over while he mumbled to you about grabbing spoons and butter knives, he couldn’t. Instead, he nodded and led the rest to the table, enjoying the quiet moments of delicious and hot food that were far better than any MRE they had in their backpacks.

The rest of the night was calm. Johhny was eager to ask questions (and John and Kyle ready to listen), but the time never came. After dinner, you showed them where the two bathrooms were and where the guest shower was located. You took them into the basement where several couches and chairs sat around a stove heating the space and a flatscreen with VHS and DVD players. A few retro gaming consoles sat displayed on the TV stand. Pointing out the blankets, comforters, and pillows on one of the couches, you said that the laundry room was in the little space off to the side in case they wanted fresh clothes. Afterwards, you thanked them for keeping the place clean and headed up to the master bedroom.

It didn’t shock any of them when Simon trailed behind you.

Clean, fed, and exhausted, the interrogations began the next morning when you wandered downstairs in one of Simon’s shirts, putting sausage in a cast iron skillet for breakfast. Johnny, now awake and ready to annoy, sat in the kitchen and asked you question after question as you answered honestly.

“Why do you live out here?”

“It’s private.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I would move.”

“Where do you work?”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why don’t you need to work?”

“I have money.”

“How’d you get it?”

“...Si, usually.”

Johnny smirked like a fox when he thought he caught you, but you just giggle at his obsessive nature and finish up cooking. Simon comes down nearly 30 minutes later, settling beside you in the kitchen as he brews tea and coffee. His hands wandered every now and again to your arms, your side, a hand on your lower back as he moves around the kitchen—which makes Johnny’s eyes boggle. How could Simon be keeping such a sweet thing so hidden? Why is he lying by saying a ‘friend’?

It wasn’t until later, when the morning blurred into afternoon, that they understood why.

When he arrived, Simon’s mood soured while yours grew sweeter, if only for a moment. You kissed the mystery man at the door and told him the situation, to which he didn’t seem to mind. He headed upstairs, practically ignoring your silent requests for tender affection to shower. You sulked a little, trying to put on a brave face as you started on lunch. Simon was there, then, chatting with you more than he did anyone as you prepared subs and fries. They could hear your angelic rings of laughter as he calmed you into your previously happy self.

When the man came back down, he ordered you to grab him a beer, and you did so without a second thought. He demanded you grab the remote, whined when it wasn’t working (“As always,” Simon later grumbled), and took out his frustration on you. He berated your meal with backhanded compliments. He ignored your requests for napkins or salt to finish his food and leave for the shed outside, dirty plate and crumbs left on the table.

You sighed as he left, frowning and watching him disappear into the wooden shed. Then Simon was there again, taking up his seat beside you and set up to finish eating there. His eyes glanced at you, cracking piss-poor dad jokes to get your little voice to chuckle as you finished eating—maybe not as much as Simon thought you should, as he later shoved cut-up plum and cheese squares into your face while the two of you sat on the wrap-around porch and caught up over tea.

John wasn’t sure what to do; Gaz and Soap were even more lost. It was so clear, then it was so confusing. It wasn’t until dinner was over and the team was sitting by a little bonfire, you and your apparent husband off to bed for the night, that they asked Simon.

“Who is that, really?” John asked.

“...I dunno. Thought we were somethin’, then we weren’t. I knew the world wouldn’t wait for me forever. Now... now I have this.”

“You give ‘em money?” Johnny, now, asked.

“Have to. Stupid fucker blows it all at casinos or fucking hides it. He’ll make it a problem if things aren’t paid on time when he’s the jackass ruining the credit score. Don’t know for sure, but I think the fucker might get close to physical when I’m not here. Thinkin’ bought putting cameras around just to make sure.”

“So... what? Is this just how you’ll spend the rest of your life? Don’t think you’ll need to do much convincing, that bastard doesn’t care,” Kyle said, leaning back in his seat.

“He doesn’t. Our jobs are similar, he’s just in construction. Leave for a while, come back for a little bit, and then leave again. The only difference between that bloke and me is that I like being here. But...”

He thinks to you: how happy you were to date the jackass, playing with your hair nervously; how you glowed with something primal and sensual after he showed you “the best night of your life,” even if you’d go back on your words later when the love-bomb spell wore off; how he proposed so sloppily yet you ate it up like candy because no one had ever treated you so sweetly. It didn’t matter that he got so drunk at the wedding he puked on your dress or that Simon swore he saw the moron kissing another girl at a party but couldn’t be the one to ruin you by telling the truth. Your husband was romantic, you said, but all Simon saw were red flags and a growing need to rearrange the fucker’s teeth.

“But I can’t destroy happiness I don’t understand.”

“I don’t think what’s going on is ‘happiness’...” Johnny said, opening another bottle. “More like... I dunno, a lack of respect? Not knowing what happiness really is?” He bit his lip before clicking his tongue in triumph. “No, no, it’s complacency. Nothing bad can happen if nothin’ changes.”

Simon hums, smoking a cigarette and watching the flames of the fire.

Kyle glanced at Price, who cleared his throat for a second. “Simon, I’m not usually one for this kind of thing, but--”

“I know, need to get over it,” Simon snapped, smoking down the cigarette into a nub before throwing it into the firepit.

Price frowned. “I think it might be the opposite.”

“I’m not destroying a family.”

“There isn’t a family, Ghost, just two people who are married and don’t do shit together,” Johnny said. “He doesn’t seem to be in the picture. How often is this place empty? There’re no photos of them on the wall. He didn’t seem happy to see his own partner. They don’t even have kids.”

Simon frowns. “I know. It’s the main complaint... lyin’ ‘bout what he wants.”

“So then... take ‘em,” Johnny said, Kyle rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s holding on too tight.”

Simon didn’t speak again that night. He headed upstairs when the rest departed for the basement. The next day, the man was kissing you good-bye as the team came upstairs. You looked sad, miserable even, and followed him outside. The two of you spoke, but he snapped at you before heading to the car, ignoring your whines for a last kiss. He drove off and you came back inside, starting breakfast in silence again.

When Simon came down, he knew. He pushed John, Kyle, and Johnny to the basement so he could hold you and comfort you. You cried hard into his chest, hiccupping and sobbing as you whined about his disregard for your comfort—that he didn’t care enough to kiss you goodbye again when you asked him if this was the last time he’d leave you.

Simon hated it because himself in your lover. He imagined it before: leaving for a deployment and seeing your round teary eyes as he packed. He’d stop, instead picking you up to kiss you and lay you on the bed, proving that he loved you so much more than you knew. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to leave if you cried like you had in the past.

No, he wouldn’t. He’d see your face and feel the fear you have of losing him. He’d leave his bags in the bedroom to pull you close to the couch, feeling over your skin like he’s been dying to do since he met you in that dirty dive bar when you both were in your early 20s. He’d ignore phone calls from Price or Laswell or any other CO to take you out for dinner and fuck you in the back of his truck like you always giggled about. He’d shower with you when you came home, wash your hair and realize your scent is all around him, not just the quick perfume he gets every time you pass by.

Would he mourn the death of his career? Probably not—not if you were pressed to his side, lips kissing his jaw and chin as he held your legs in his lap. (If he was lucky, maybe even pregnant.) Every metal, award, trophy... it’d dull the moment you stood beside it, the moment his brain conjured up your image in lieu of polished gold. He’d put on his crisp, shiny-adorned uniform one last time for your wedding. You always said the fabric made him look so regal.

It wasn’t a surprise when the next morning you seemed gloomy. You tried to play it off, smiling when talking to someone before retreating back into yourself, and John could tell how much it hurt Simon. He trailed behind you like a kitten, watching from doorways to make sure the waterworks hadn’t started. When they did, he tugged you to the master bedroom and let you curl up into the blankets and sob. Simon rubbed your back, a silent yet strong barrier between you and loneliness.

You asked him what you should do—how could you keep loving a man who won’t treat you like a person? Who won’t see you as anything but a hole to fuck when he comes home before leaving again? He wasn’t soft like Simon, you said, and Simon felt conflicted.

He wasn’t soft. No one else got to see the affection he rarely used, felt his hands doing anything other than breaking and taking. He towered over men far weaker than him. He didn’t feel remorseful for the pain he caused to those who deserved it and maybe even the ones who didn’t. He made himself built for war, yet you cried into his lap and called him a softie.

Maybe he was—but only for you. You were just an exception.

He couldn’t tell if it was the conversation from the previous night or your red cheeks and puffy eyes that did it for him. He couldn’t bare letting you fall apart over an ugly motherfucker like your husband. He calmed you, pulling your limp body into his lap. His arms around you felt more like a strait jacket than a hug, but you took it readily. Your fingers gripped his shirt, and he truly realized the effect you had on him. Tilting your chin up, he hummed a soft apology before pressing his lips to yours, keeping his hand on your jaw.

Maybe, after that, it was a good thing the bedroom door was locked. Maybe it took a few days for you to completely move forward, legal papers signed and delivered at the little post office in town, 25 minutes from your cabin. Maybe Simon was there, his hands and lips unable to leave your skin for longer than a minute. Maybe, as he left with Laswell’s next instructions, he took you upstairs one last time and promised to be back later, when he was done—that he’d come back and take you to the courthouse that same evening, paying a stranger to watch you exchange vows if Johnny didn’t tag along like he figured he would, and you’d never feel lonely again.

Imagine your surprise when he showed up three months later and he kept his word—with a certain loud Scot in tow, too.

[mockerycrow]

PAYPHONE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

Summary: You and Johnny were the right people, but everything happened at the wrong time.

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/no comfort, breaking up, unhealthy coping mechanisms/can be seen as self-harm.]

JOHNNY DIDN’T know how to handle certain emotions correctly, despite being in the military. He’s a strong, disciplined man but the second something happens he doesn’t know how to deal with—something he doesn’t know how to fix happens, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Johnny’s an impatient man, he likes when something needs to be done and done at that exact moment. He doesn’t like sitting around, doing nothing. He despises feeling useless and god, has he never felt more useless than he does right now, sitting in the gym on base; his headphones blasting music as his leg bounces up and down whilst he’s on a bench. His arms are resting on his knees, his head hanging low with his hands rubbing the back of his neck because it’s feeling the stretch of his muscles due to the position he’s in.

His eardrums twinged with discomfort due to how loud he’s playing his music, but Johnny couldn’t give two shits. Not when he’s waiting for a text that will never come, not when he feels a hole in his chest that he’s not quite sure will ever heal. Johnny lets out a shuddery breath as his leg bounces a thousand miles per hour; he came to the gym to distract himself, but it’s only making everything worse. Johnny’s phone vibrates and he hates the way he pulls it out of his pocket with lightning speed, his heart pounding against his ribcage with hope, hope that it’s you—and a loud curse leaving him as it’s just a fucking notification from his goddamn rugby scores app. Johnny doesn’t hesitate to throw his phone to the ground, the phone clattering as he puts his head in his hands, the energy humming in his veins begging to be released.

“Fuck!” He snarls loudly—he’s alone in the gym, so he isn’t worried about downplaying his reactions. It’s fairly late and the gym is a fair’s way away from the barracks. Not many people come down at—he looks at his watch—0239. His hands are wrapped in preparation of using a punching bag; he knows he should go back to his room and grab the foam gloves for extra protection, he knows he cannot afford broken knuckles right now, but quite frankly; Johnny could not give a fuck. Not when the pain in his chest and in his throat is much worse than any physical injury he’s received. Even the deep, hooked scar in his chin hurt less.

Johnny stands up from where he’s sitting on a bench nearby and he stalks towards the punching bag, electricity biting at his nerves, the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he throws a violent right hook at the punching bag; he blocks out the warning signals his brain sends him from the lack of complete proper protection. He wants to stop thinking about you, he wants to stop thinking about your last conversation, the happy memories—he needs it to stop hurting as bad as it does.

Your laugh was incredibly contagious that Johnny couldn’t help but breaking out into a grin so hard that his lip curls and exposes his upper right canine tooth, barely able to contain his own laughter. You were cracking up at your own damn joke that wasn’t even funny in the first place, yet Johnny found himself with tears in his eyes and a tight gut from laughter. “Y—“ He chokes at first, sucking in a deep breath. “You couldn’t even fuckin’ finish yer joke!—“ Johnny wheezes, unable to stop himself from slapping the couch. You, unlike Johnny, did not care who or what was the object of your laughing assault. Your hand comes down on his thigh multiple times, causing him to laugh harder as neither of you could catch your breath. “Shut the fuck up—” You were barely able to push it out, your head reeling back from the laughter.

Johnny’s eyes were glued to you; he loved the way you laughed, the way you were so comfortable with him. He never complained when you hit him during laughing fits, even though yes, it did hurt. Johnny never complained when you couldn’t finish your jokes, because your laughter always ended up being better than the joke itself. His laughter died down, but Johnny’s grin never left his face. He loved watching you try to catch your breath, the way your body flails during a laughing fit. Johnny watched as you slowly stopped laughing, your fingers coming up to wipe the tears that had spilled and any remaining in your eyes. You bit your lip as you made eye contact and you both lost it all over again, this time Johnny’s hand coming down to slap your leg instead, sending you into a loud wheeze.

Johnny thinks the happy memories hurt worse than the bad ones; because he can’t hate you for this. He thinks it would be so much easier to get over this–your relationship if you did something completely fucked up, but the fact is that you didn’t. You never did; you were good to him. Johnny knows he wasn’t bad to you–but you two just wanted different things, and yet you’re the only one he wants. He’s so angry. At you, at himself, at how things ended. His knuckles hurt. Johnny hates how you were so fucking sweet to him, even to the end. He wishes you were mean to him; he wishes you did something unforgivable but you didn’t. His hands throb. Johnny hates himself for this because he’s sure it’s his fault. He’s sure if he did what you needed, it wouldn’t have ended this way. “But would you be happy, John?”

His eyes shut, trying to block out the sudden invasion of your voice. God, your voice. It was something he looked forward to each time he returned from the field, no matter time, he would dial your number. It was usually around this time, too, which doesn’t help. Not when his fingers itch burn to dial your number.

Johnny wishes you did something to justify the anger he has towards you right now, but you didn’t. You wanted different things than him, plain and simple. Neither of you guys did anything wrong, and Johnny can’t handle that. He wants to blame you, himself, something.

Johnny gasps as suddenly the pain hits him. The blaring, hot white pain that shoots through his knuckles, up his arms. His eyelids fly open as he’s met with a gruesome sight; his blood. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Johnny curses, shaky fingers ripping his headphones off of his head. There’s blood smeared on the punching bag, blood dripped from his knuckles onto the ground as well as dripping down the punching bag, there’s specks of blood all over the front of his shirt—his hands wont stop fucking shaking, and his chest hurts, and his head fucking burns—

There’s a pair of arms that wrap around Johnny and he tries to push them away, but the white hot pain flares up in his joints and he gasps, pulling his hands away. “No—“ He croaks, barely hearing himself. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me—“

“—op—“

“So—“

“John!”

His eyes open—when did he close them?—and his eyes lay on a familiar face; Price. He looks tired, his brows furrowed in concern, his hands grasping his shoulders uncomfortably firmly. His chest burns, and his vision blurs from the tears he wasn’t aware he was spilling. “Hey, god—“ Price grunts as he grabs Johnny’s wrists instead, his touch gentler there. Johnny sucks in a tight breath, his hands trembling so harshly—they shouldn’t be shaking, he’s a sniper and demolitions expert—“Focus on me, y’hear me?” Price’s voice filters through the drowning thoughts.

Johnny’s breath hitches when he says that, his shoulders trembling. “They used—they used t’say that.”

Price’s worried expression falters, his eyes flickering with recognition with what’s going on, his heart strings tugging harder than before; watching one of your sergeants break like this is.. Something Price never wants to experience again.

“C’mon, no, don’t you worry about the mess, yeah?” Price murmurs, Johnny hiccuping, the embarrassment of breaking down beginning to hit as tears drip off of his cheeks. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mate.”

“Maybe in the next life, Johnny.”

[effy-writes]

Addict (Blitz x Reader)

8: Harvest Moon Festival: Stimulants

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body rested on top of Blitz, you were able to hear his heart beat since your head was on his chest. With his free hand he played with your hair. Rubbing the scalp, twirling the strands of your hair.

"Was I too rough?" He said, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

"I liked it, Blitzy~" Stolas chimed. 

"Not you, her."

"It was fine." You said with a sleepy tone due to Blitz giving you an half assed scalp massage.

The two of them talked about the arrangement and why Stolas had to move it early. You didn't mind doing it early, you're actually starting to enjoy these encounters.

Blitz was about to get up but you held on him tighter, not wanting him to leave.

Stolas continued, "The Harvest Moon is a very special occasion! It's been my annual duty to showcase it in the Ring of Wrath. It's celebrated by a very charming little festival with the locals."

"Wrath, huh? My employees are from there. I've never really been. I hear it's full of inbred chucklefucks."

"Oh! Why don't you all join me at the festival? I can guarantee you all..." Stolas got up and trailed his fingers along your naked back. "special access~"

"Look, I told you, we're not bodyguards. Okay? That was a one-time thing we did badly."

"I'm simply offering a work-free day of fun! I feel quite safe at the Harvest Festival. It's the same every year."

"Then why do you want us to go?" You mumbled, falling in and out of sleep.

"Because! I enjoy hanging out with you two."

"Well if you promise this isn't some fuck fest invite, it does sound like it could be a blast and a half. Plus, it's not like we can do jack shit without your book anyway." Blitz scoffed.

~~~

"Hey, hope I didn't wake ya, Mox! How would you and Mils like to visit the Wrath Ring for some harvest bullshit this year?" Blitz called Moxxie.

"We're already here, couldn't we just tell them in person?" You whispered, Blitz quickly hushed you.

"The Harvest Moon Festival?! Yee-fuckin'-haw!" Millie squealed.

"Well, Millie likes the idea. Wait... Where are you calling from?"

The two of you lost balance and fell on top of the couple.

"Y/n? I was expecting Blitz, but really? You joined in on the stalking?" Moxxie huffed.

"He begged me, sorry."

~~~

"Mama! Daddy!" Millie ran to hug her parents. The 3 talked for a bit before Millie grabbed Moxxie, "y'all remember my husband Moxxie?"

"Greetings, Lin! Joe! How have you been, uh, with all the... flaming twisters and stuff around here?" He nervously said.

Blitz turned his attention to you, "You know I barely saw your parents."

You stiffened, "Yeah, what a shame, nice people."

"I don't do compliments but you look pretty good in a cowgirl outfit.”

You snickered, "Thanks."

You looked back over at M&M and her parents, "Oh, crumbs. My bad! I am so sorry. I- I didn't mean to open that wound... sir." Moxxie said to Joe.

"Hey, watch it! I'm the "sir" here, bucko!" Blitz yelled.

"Oh yeah! Y'all haven't met my boss Blitz! This is Y/n!" Millie got closer to her dad, "I think they're dating. And his hellhound!"

"I'm not just his hellhound." Loona argued.

"Yeah, she's my daughter!" Blitz replied.

"Only on paper." She walked away.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the sperm and egg factory that popped out this little gem of an assassin. You two raised a sturdy bitch!" Blitz greeted her parents.

"That we did! So... Blitz, is it? Heh heh. That's a fine name." Joe shook his hand.

You awkwardly stood there, turning your head and saw Loona sitting in the van. You opened up the drivers side and sat with her.

"How have you been?" You asked.

Loona shrugged, "It's been whatever. What are you and Blitz anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dating? Friends with benefits? What is it?"

"I actually don't know. And sorta don't care."

There was some silence.

"I know we barely talk other than superficial shit, but why were you in rehab?"

You were lost for words, "Stimulants addiction."

"Just wondering." Loona continued to type on her phone.

You looked out the window and laughed, grabbing Loona’s attention, “Moxxie is wrestling a hog and is losing.”

The two of you got out and Loona hit record on her phone, “This is fucking beautiful.”

"Ow...my clavicle" Moxxie rubbed his neck and left the pin.

"Don't worry, little one... You never stood a chance." Striker said as he noticed you rewatching the video that Loona took. "I didn't meet you yet, what's your name, pretty thang." Striker smirked.

"Y/n."

"Names Striker." He winked and walked away with the dead hog over his shoulder. "Hey, boss man! You wanna help the men skin this thing for dinner?"

Blitz clapped, "Oh, I am always down to skin the manly meat with the manly men!"

~~~

Millie’s parents didn’t have any room for you and Blitz, so you had to sleep together. You offered to sleep on the couch or with Loona so he can have a bed to himself for once but Blitz didn’t want to leave you out of sight.

“You really think that I’m gonna get drugs? From where!”

“I don’t fucking know! You brought this on your own.” He crossed his arms.

“Blitz please get off of my ass for ONCE!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Loona yelled from across the hall.

You aggressively ran your fingers through your hair. “and you’re making it worse by keep reminding me i’m a fucking drug addict.”

Blitz sat on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples. “Let’s just go to sleep. We gotta do this shit tomorrow.”

You paced back and forth as you bit your nails. Blitz looked up at you and noticed you were stressed or about to have a panic attack. He called out your name in a soft tone, “Come here.”

You shook your head as your breaths increased. The only thoughts running in your mind is that you don’t want Blitz to only see you as a drug addict and if that’s all he’s gonna see in the future. Blitz stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from pacing back and forth, “Lay down, okay? You’re freaking yourself out.”

Blitz took your hand into his and led you to the bed. He helped you lay underneath the covers as he made his way in as well. The moon shined through the country-looking-ass room and he could see your glossy eyes. Blitz gently caressed your face, “You need sleep. Do you want to be little spoon? I know how you like to be held.” He chuckled.

You deadpanned, “You just want my ass against your dick.”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh..fine.” You playfully rolled your eyes and smiled as you turned the other way. And you were right, you felt Blitz’s clothed dick against your ass.

~~~~

The next day everyone gathered for the Harvest Moon Festival.

Moxxie, Blitz, Striker, and you decided to join in on the game. Originally you weren't going to do it, but Striker gave you some "pick me ups" which is just adderal. Thank youuu, Striker.

Stolas walked onto the stage, "Greetings, tiny... Wrath Ring Imps! I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell! I'm happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest Imps to show their skill in dominance. Good luck to you all! Especially those sexy little imps down there... Yoo-hoo! Blitzy! Y/n!"

"Ugh. Fuck me." Blitz cringed, but you on the other hand bursted out laughing.

The gun noise pierced the air and everyone sprinted. Moxxie kept getting trampled, Striker and Blitz was in the lead. You were so cracked out that you jumped over so many imps, stepped on their backs and jumped right in front of Blitz.

"Oh that fucker is definitely on drugs." He grunted.

"What? Your plaything? Jealous because she’s beatin' you?" Striker teased.

"Not jealous, disappointed."

Striker, Blitz, Moxxie and you teamed up for tug of war. The adderal was slowly leaving your body, including the strength and stamina, but luckily you made it past tug of war.

However, when wrestling came you lost to a very angry Blitz. "How the FUCK did you get stimulants?" He pinned your arms down. You kept kicking and thrashing, trying to get Blitz off.

"Can't believe you think I'm doing drugs again when I'm actually trying my hardest you dick." You spat.

Blitz got off and you aggressively walked away, "Fuck, Y/n, Im…FUCK!"

Without turning around you flipped him off. You're not mad at him, he's right, you did take drugs, but you can't help to be mad at everyone and everything. It's your fault, isn't it? Letting Striker talk to you, letting him talk about "natural" medicine, buying some from him. You could've stopped but you didn't.

Wally started speaking, "I say, I say, for the first year ever, we have a tie for winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!"

Stolas took his microphone, "The winners are... Striker, aaaaand my darling Blitzy!"

"Just say my name RIGHT! Fuckin' dick." Blitz and Striker made their way up onto the stage.

You sat down beside of Millie, resting your head in your hands.

"You okay, hun?" Millie rubbed your back.

"Yeah...just tired."

"I bet." She chuckled, "You were goin' hard!"

Millie expected you to laugh but sense that something is wrong because you two are always goofing off. She soften her look, "You can tell me anythin', you know that, right?"

You lifted up your head and gave Millie a reassuring smile, "I'm fine, Mills. Thank you."

Blitz arrived with a hotdog in his mouth, "Isn't this guy great? It's gonna be nice workin' with him."

"Working with him...? WHAT?!" Moxxie stammered.

"Yeaaaah! I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P."

"Mox, I think you've had enough, for now. Let's head back to the house and get you clean." Millie kissed his cheek.

Blitz looked over at you. You felt him staring at you but didn't acknowledge him.

~~~

"Where's M&M?" You asked Blitz, shutting the front door of Millie's parent's house.

"I don't know, go check upstairs."

As you made your way upstairs you got a hunch that something was wrong. You turned to your left and picked up a hiking stick that was hung up on the wall. Holding it like a baseball bat, Godamn, me and these stupid wooden rods.

You peaked in the rooms and saw Striker with a gun, pointing it out the window. Your eyes widened and placed your back against the wall, exhaling and peaked back in.

You walked in the room and as you was about to hit Striker he turned around and pointed his gun.

"Y/n? Why are you here." He smirked. "Coming to get more adderal?"

You gulped, feeling your body shake.

"Guess not." His finger was on the trigger. You jumped and swung the hiking stick but Striker caught it, swinging it to hit your face.

"Fuck!" You yelled, falling down on your side. Before you could react Striker put his foot on your chest. You flung your legs trying to fight back but he was much stronger than you.

"Bet you need drugs to make you stronger, right?" He mocked.

"How did you know that." You struggled to say.

"I overheard you and ‘Blitzy’ arguing like teen skanks last night. Why did you think I gave you adderal in the first place?"

“You gave them to me on purpose because you know that I was addict? You bitch!”

Striker cocked the gun and pointed it at you. You still thrashed around trying to get out of his grip before he shot you but the fatigued was hindering you. A click was heard from a different gun.

The two of you turned heads.

"Uh excuse me, but what the FUCK?"

"Blitz!" You felt relief.

"Blitz, nice to see you here."

"First you were going to off the only gateway we have to get to the living world AND off her? And I was going to let you join our business." He scoffed in disbelief.

Striker didn't move, his foot was still pinning you to the ground. "Why struggle to run a business that is rigged against you? When you could partner up with me and kill... the unkillable?"  Striker pressed harder onto you, resulting in you groaning due to the pressure.

Blitz clenched his teeth.

"You scared that I'm going to hurt her? You care about her don't you?"

You looked over at Blitz teary eyed.

"Did you know that she got stimulants from me?"

Blitz lowered his gun, "What?"

"Blitz I-"

Striker put his foot over your neck, cutting off some air.

"Oh, you daddy fucker!"

Blitz sprinted and tackled Striker, you gasped for air and grabbed the hiking stick, swinging it and hit Strikers head. He yelped in pain and stumbled back.

Blitz whistled for Loona and waited, but she didn't come. "Fuckin dammit Loona." He groaned.

Striker pushed you out the way and pinned Blitz down on the ground, "I'm getting kinda horny right now." Blitz joked.

"Huh?"

You swung and hit Striker repeatedly on the head and his back. Every swing you hit him harder and harder. Getting your anger out, mainly angry at yourself for getting adderal. Angry because you feel like you can't do anything unless you have stimulants. Angry that your parents forced you to take them to perform better, angry that you ended up getting hooked, angry that you left the circus, angry that you left Blitz.

Striker was lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Blitz was astounded, he stared at your watered eyes and flushed face. You threw the hiking stick and sat down in the corner of the room with your head in your hands.

"Kay, Im here." Loona walked in and noticed the scenery. "Nevermind." She left.

Striker got up from the floor and shoved Blitz aside before getting on top of the window seal. "Maybe you'll get me next time... Blitzy." He escaped through.

Blitz panted, turned his attention towards you and kneeled down.

"You sure do know how to wack." He joked, but felt heart heavy. "I'm not angry."

"It's not only that," Your voice cracked, "Its other things."

"Hey, hey it's okay. Come on." He helped you up. "I know you're sorry, I'm not even mad about it, 'kay? So don't worry."

You looked around the room and realized this was the room you and Blitz slept last night. “Striker overheard our conversation last night. He purposely gave me adderal and-”

“Stop..okay? Just stop. I’ll let this one go because you didn’t actively searched for it, you were tempted to it so..don’t worry.” Blitz reassured but you could tell that he was still pissed off with a hint of disappointment.

[penguinbuttcheeks]

going to a rave with the 141 boys

A/N: can u tell im excited for my upcoming rave bender? the next few weekends are gonna be intense and i’m here for it

cw: alcohol, casual drug use

ghost

- let’s be real, he would never actually agree to go to a rave with you. the closest you’ll ever get to taking him out to something similar is a bar, and it’s going to be the usual dingy one near base. he rarely even goes to that one unless it’s for celebrations or he wants to brood solo with some liquid luck by his side

- in the highly unlikely instance you do manage to bring him, he surprisingly fits in - visually at least

- his balaclava and simple compression shirt that he’s worn seems to be the vibe of everyone else, just very toned down. maybe he’s a casual raver, not too keen on dressing up like everyone else is what passer-by’s think

- not that anyone’s really paying attention, they’re all either tripping balls, high off their faces on MD or too busy feeling the music to care

- ghost is definitely feeling out of his element

- so many shirtless, sweaty men doing ‘ridiculous’ dances and women in skimpy outfits that flash all sorts of bright colours

- you’ve definitely dressed up for the occasion.

- ghost is absolutely floored when he sees what you’re wearing for the first time

- “what the fuck are you wearing”

- definitely acts more like a body guard than a rave buddy. everyone is so intoxicated. he’s on high alert the whole time, keeping a keen eye on you while you lose yourself to the sensations of the music rumbling deep in your bones and the feeling of bodies brushing up against you by the stage where the dj continues to do their thing

- you’re probably not even close to the stage, you’re further back where there’s less people and simon actually has the space to be able to breathe

- it doesn’t matter though, you’re still having a blast and dancing away to your hearts content

- ghost definitely can’t help watching the way you move your body, trying his best not to seem creepy, but you seem so in your element - it’s almost like watching you in the shooting range. you’re so lost in focus

- it’s hot as hell

- even if he thinks the way you’re dancing looks absolutely ridiculous, you’re confident and he finds it deeply attractive

- “don’t ever bring me to one of those again”

soap

- probably the most on board out of everyone to join

- you guys absolutely sat in your room together while you did your makeup and dolled yourself up

- “oi lad/lass, can ye put some o’ that on me?”

- soap gives you the biggest shit eating grin when you pull out a small baggie of pills to get the both of you through the night. you better pray there’s no upcoming standard military drug tests

- you are definitely going to be the one babysitting the entire time

- you almost lose him several times and the only reason you were able to find him again was because you heard loud scottish yelling

- arriving for the first time, soap can’t help but let out a low whistle. “fuckin’ ‘ell”

- tries to mimic the way you and the people around him are dancing but can’t for the life of him figure out how tf you’re all moving your bodies so quickly and fluently to the rapid beat of the music

- almost falls on his face trying the first time

- you’ve got him dressed up in the sluttiest, most ridiculous outfit that you think you’ll ever see him in. it’s definitely caught the attention of a few people around you

- god he’s so cocky when he realises he’s popular amongst the crowd with all the men and the ladies

- it may be boosting his ego but don’t worry. he’s only got his sights set on you

- speaking of sights set, soap can’t stop staring at you. you’re wearing the most revealing outfit ever seen and he swears then and there that he’s going to marry you

- he knew that he wanted to make you his, but tonight definitely sets that in stone

- the following weeks, you’re getting amused grins and eye rolls from your teammates (ghost is absolutely the one rolling his eyes)

- soap had secretly snagged a video of you dancing to your hearts content and made a point to make sure everyone bears witness to it

- when you find out, soap is sulking in the rec room with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his head, sulking like a kicked puppy

- oh well, at least he managed to hide one video of you after forcing him to delete them all

gaz

- it’s not his scene, but god he’s curious

- agrees to tag along with you, and boy is he glad he did

- his eyes are all over you the entire night. he just can’t help it when you’ve prettied yourself up so good

- “you look stunning, love”

- he’s content to just watch you truly be yourself, mingling and swapping bracelets with strangers and drunkenly stumbling around the place with a joyous laugh leaving your lips

- definitely would need occasional moments away from the crowds to allow him the space to gather his thoughts

- soap is probably there with the both of you tbh. it was originally a trio outing, but soap has run off to do his own thing

- don’t worry, gaz is here to watch over you and make sure you’re safe

- he takes it upon himself be be the sober one

- besides, he wants to remember the way you sway your hips to the beat and drag your fingers through your hair

- can’t help the slight pang of jealousy when he sees you dancing with another man, his eyes raking over your body and his hands reaching out to touch you

- “move along buddy”

- gaz is quick to pull you next to him, a steely glare directed at the man as he pulls you in to his side, your wide, surprised eyes looking up at gaz

- gaz isn’t usually one to be overprotective or jealous, but god is it hot when you bear witness to it for the first time

- absolutely chews soap out on the way home for stranding them amongst the hundreds of people at the rave

- you’re sleeping soundly - a small, drunken yet content smile on your face as your head rests on gaz’s shoulder in the cab home

- gaz can’t help but smile at you softly, hand reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes as you rest

- he definitely stood out like a sore thumb at the rave, but it definitely won’t be the last one he’s attending. how could it be? you were such a delight to watch

- tonight will definitely be replaying in his mind for the following weeks to come

price

- you would lose your job so quickly if you ever brought price along to a rave

- occupation aside, unless you have the luck to win the lottery - price is probably also not joining you

- the poor bastard is not big on crowds, especially amongst so many young adults that are so intoxicated on more than just alcohol

- he’s not the oldest there, far from it, but his time serving in the military has made him feel detached from popular trends and the normalcy of civilian lifestyles

- you probably end up leaving early. the loud music gives him a headache, and god - do people actually listen to this?

- “don’t you dare take that shot”

- you definitely downed it after giving him an evil smirk

- the entire night is spent on the sidelines of the dance floor. there is no way that price is dealing with that many people pushing up against him while also dealing with the pounding in his head

- bitching and moaning aside, price is glad to see you letting lose and enjoying yourself instead of burying yourself in work and training

- you’re a hard worker, he knows you deserve this chance to cast aside the burdens of your occupation

- he’d never admit it, but he was glad to get off base (even if it was at an event he would never willingly go to on his own accord)

- he’s standing a few metres to the side, hands in his pockets and chuckling, shaking his head in amusement as you dance away in your own little world while he sips on a beer

- he’s discrete about it, but his eyes slowly travel over your body when your eyes are closed and you’re too lost to the beat of the rhythm - body coated in light layer of sweat, skin gleaming an assortment of colours as the lights bounce off your body

- he feels bad when he says he need to get the hell out of there, but his heart melts a little when you’re nothing but understanding

- he would never admit it, but it wasn’t the worst night of his life

- he got to see a new side of you that he never expected to see

- walks past the training room a few weeks later where you’re busy training. it’s late and everyone has retired for the night, but you’re gunning it on the treadmill, the same music the two of you listened to that night out playing from your bluetooth speaker

- he can’t help but think back to the way you moved your body so seamlessly to the harsh beat of each melody

- it’s ingrained permanently in his memories. it’s altered his brain completely

- he treasures it like an overprotective dragon does with its hoard of glittering gems and gold. what he saw that night was for him to see and him alone. the 141 boys have no idea what they’re missing out on

[hometoswift]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS !

jj maybank blurb | x kook reader

in which. . .kook reader attends a party with her boyfriend Rafe Cameron, and after she tells JJ about all her problems with Rafe, it leads to something she’s always swore would never happen.

warning. . .SMUT! Choking, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex, pet names, jj lowk being petty, getting caught, & squirting :)

masterlist!

▐ You had always swore to yourself, and Rafe - your boyfriend, that you’d never like a pogue. Sure, Kiara & Sarah were okay since they were girls…but if Rafe saw you go near a pogue he would start a riot with absolutely no shame.

But after drunkly venting to the forbidden, JJ MAYBANK, about your problems with Rafe - you found yourself in the bathroom with him.

JJ held you close, his hands on your hips as he roughly pounded into you. He held your mini-dress up with one hand, as the other brought a smack to your ass suddenly.

Your body jolted at the feeling, sweet whimpers & choked moans leaving your lips as JJ hit all the right spots. “You like that, mama?” He panted. You could only moan in response, the pleasure being too much.

“Answer me.” He brought the hand that held your dress, to your hair - forcing your head to fall back onto his shoulder. “Y-yes! Shit, JJ- oh God..” you cried out, as his pace fastened.

“What would little ol’ cameron think if he saw a pogue fucking his girl, hm?” He chuckled, letting your hair go as his eyes trailed down back to your ass. You whimpered as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

Now that he was closer, you took this as an opportunity to rest your tired head on his shoulder. “You think he’d get a little mad?” JJ knew how to play petty. He thought it would hilarious if Rafe were to catch you both.

“That would be a shame, right babe?” He grunted as you squeezed him tightly. “If he caught us fuckin’, that would be terrible.”

You hiccuped as he flipped you over, now putting you in missionary. He had a whole new angle, and was able to hit every spot. “C’mon ma, i know you can cum for me.”

Your hands found his back, leaving scratches as your acrylics (rafe had paid for) moved up and down. “Who knew a lil’ rich girl could have this pussy..” he groaned, throwing his head back. You cried out on his shoulder, before his hand decorated in rings lifted your head up.

“C’mere baby.” He sighed, getting closer to his release as he pressed his lips to yours roughly. Your pussy clenched around him, squeezing his cock - JJ moaned into your mouth.

His hand slid down your stomach, moving to quickly rub your clit. Your body shook with pure bliss as his fingers worked to get you to your release. JJ had this secret rule, the lady always has to cum first, “F-fuck, i’m cumming, shit!” You moaned aloud. “Good girl, c’mon.”

Before you knew it, the knot in your stomach snapped - as your juices ran down your thigh - squirting all over JJ’s lower half. He continued to thrust into you, before his harsh thrusts came to a stop - releasing inside of you.

You felt amazing, until the door OPENED.

“Oh. my. GOD!” Sarah screamed. John B stood beside her, he quickly covered his eyes. “Shit.” You panted, pulling up your panties and pulling down your dress. “Oh hey guys.” JJ smiled calmly as you stumbled off the sink.

“Funny seeing you here.” Sarah glared at JJ in disgust, before her eyes flickered to you. Sarah had been such a close friend, & she supported you through everything. She giggled softly.

“Hi sar.” You smiled awkwardly. As Sarah pulled you out of the bathroom, John B grabbed JJ by the shirt. “Dude, that’s Rafe’s girlfriend, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“Bro, it’s fine. Rafe isn’t gonna do shit.” He chuckled. Sarah gasped as she turned to you, “Girl you have to explain.” You cheesed, “It’s a long story…i don’t know what i’m gonna do with Rafe.” You sighed, over-thinking.

Sarah fixed your hair, as the music blasted through the house party. “Give it ti-”

“Y/n?” A voice behind you caught your attention, Rafe. “Oh, shit.” You sighed.

[pristinekanesays]

🦋Life Is Strange: With A Sick S/O

🦋 just like the good ol' title, how the crew react when you become sick

🐺 GN!Reader, no specific pronouns are mentioned!

🦋 warnings: swearing, mentions of the reader having a cold & coughing/sneezing a lot, fluff, cute ass stuff, nathan not giving a rats ass tbh

🎧A/N: hey dudes, i'm back and i've been missin' you, feel free to request somethin'! might be a little short and the writing style has changed, feels gooooood to be back >:D.

🦋Chloe Price:

🤍| she'll joke around with you first like 'hey maybe you caught something from that snotty-nosed kid down the street' or laugh and plead that you don't sneeze on her or somethin'.

🤍| but seriously, she's fuckin' freaked especially if you've got a pretty bad cold or cough.

🤍| props to her though, she might be a bit overboard when you're sick but at least she cares.

🤍| she can't cook all that great but hey, if life ain't going so good for you then she'll somehow convince joyce to let you stay (much against davids wishes) and then you can have all the homemade chicken soup you want.

🤍| will still blast her music as loud as she wants unless you have a pretty nasty headache then she'll turn it down a little. (only a little)

🍂Kate Marsh:

🤍| an angel in disguise with the most beautiful white wings, she's there when you need her and will literally jump when you call.

🤍| will ask if your okay (like you literally aren't basically fighting for your life) then shake her head like a disappointed mother when she hears your hoarse voice.

🤍| if you're still trying to attend class or do stuff while you're sick, then she'll be the girl rushing after you and trying to get you back to your dorm.

🤍| i've said this before, kate can definitely cook but if you're not eating then she'll settle for buying fast food you like (because at least you're not dying of starvation).

🤍| checks up on you occasionally but not every second, she acts like if she even turns a lamp on that you'll die on the spot or combust into thin air.

📷 Max Caulfield:

🤍| kinda like warren, refers to you being sick as a 'total bummer' but she doesn't mean it in a way to bash you for being sick, only really to make you laugh or roll your eyes.

🤍| she texts you a few times a day when your sick, to check up on you or to occasionally..send you memes.

🤍| visits you sometimes after class, either to bring you food or just to see if you're still alive and breathin'.

🤍| when she finally gets some time to spend with you, she'll sit down beside you and show you photos that she's taken of you before you got sick. (including the one of you in a banana suit.)

🤍| if you're chilling in her dorm while she's in class, then she'll leave some music discs out for you in case you ever get sick of the silence.

🎭Rachel Amber:

🤍| she's busy cracking jokes half of the time and when you joke back she'll hit you with a 'i'm not the one coughing and sneezing everywhere, am i?'.

🤍| she won't be able to check up on you every second since she's busy with class, drama & the tempest but will still try to make time for you.

🤍| will send you updates about what she's doing though, for example 'at drama lab, still doing good?' or 'class sucks, hope ur okay.'

🤍| she can cook, yeah! but rachel seems like the type of person to eat it out of the tin instead of making it homemade (she's just like me)

🤍| she's kinda like victoria in a way that she loves you but she cannot risk being sick, especially with all the shit she's gotta do.

🎬 Victoria Chase:

🤍| she cares and is definitely worried when you suddenly become sick but tries to pretend that she doesn't, at least not that much.

🤍| she's busy with a lot of stuff so she can't always be there when you need her but she'll try to be.

🤍| so filthy rich that it's mind-blowing, she can buy you whatever, whenever you want it.

🤍| she'll text you after she's done everything she needs to do and her schedule is clear, will ask if you need anything picked up or if you're feeling any better since the last time she saw you.

🤍| okay, if you don't like nathan then i'm sorry!! she's gonna send him to give you stuff or check up on you, even if you guys literally despise each other.

🎮 Warren Graham:

🤍| he's super sweet, so no worries! he'll make sure to check up on you and give you advice whenever you need it.

🤍| doesn't care about getting sick, he's still down to hang whenever and will look at you with an awkward but reassuring smile when you're coughing your ass off.

🤍| he's the type to rub your back bro even if he knows he's gonna catch your nasty ass cold and be stuck in bed for days.

🤍| if you're okay with touch then he'll also hold your hand when he's beside you and tell you that this is gonna pass, so don't worry!!

🤍| he's chill so he might let you get up and do shit but will definitely be scared that you'll just collapse out of nowhere, even if you've only got a painless cold he's still gonna make sure you're okay.

🤍| he didn't get any affection from his father, ever. so it's gonna be hard for him to try and care for you when you're sick.

🤍| sometimes just ends up buying you stuff to make up for not being there when you need him, if you and victoria are on good terms then he'll probably just ask her if she can get you meds or anything else that can help you. (LAZYYY ASSS!!! D:&lt;)

🤍| checks up on you when he can but will try to pretend that he hasn't been fearing for your life the whole time he's been busy, dude it's a cold.

🤍| rich just like vic! he can bring you whatever you want, just ask and he'll tiptoe through that door like a sims 2 burglar with the things you asked for in hand.

🤍| apart from that though, just ask victoria or something if you ever need company because his brain will explode and he'll look at you all dumbfounded 'n shit.

[half-dead-ham]

With chaos brings Justice

My last entry for the DpxDCshipweek, sad I couldn't get through it in it entirety, but happy I made some for it at all!

links: [Ao3] Wc: 6656 Cw: implied/referenced torture

John Constantine was a man of few pleasures. He liked booze, nights with a full bed and belly, and keeping his head attached to his shoulders.

 So when he felt a surge of chaos magic flood the board room of the Justice League Watchtower one long morning into their bi-monthly meeting that for some reason he decided to show up to, he felt any chance of him recovering this day with booze or food leave the solar system entirely.

 Before the other Leaguers even felt the pressure change that came with teleporting magics John was on his feet, readying a defence spell just in case who (or what) decided to attack first, talk second. ‘Course the other gits just saw him knock back his chair with a flask of whatever he’d poured himself last night and thought for a second he was trollied.

 He always loved it when the other blokes did that. Fuckin’ hell, where was Zatanna when you needed her?

 He would’ve cracked a smile when the rest of them finally got the memo that sumthin’ foul was afoot, but John was too focused on the fact that he recognized the magic to try and play this off as anything but deadly serious. Why was he the only one here that was able to deal with this particular brand of chaos? Why couldn’t he have bloody stayed home like all the other bloody times he’d missed a meeting?

 The magic was perceptible now, a swirling red cloud hovering over the conference table like it might start raining blood, a static in the air, the smell of lamp oil and chaos magic making John's nose twitch. There wasn’t any use in trying to fool himself as a figure formed in the cloud, and any trace of those lovely effects of his bevvy of choice went straight out the airlock.

 A pale-faced child emerged from the mist, curly black hair with two styled points partially obscuring a set of beady black eyes that looked down their nose at the group surrounding the table.

 “Klarion,” the teen turned to John, expression unusually flat. The witch boy Hadn’t yet said anything, and his blasted familiar kept its place on his shoulder, hissing but not leaping into action.

 Now that John got a good look at the chaos magic user he almost wanted to look surprised. Klarion had changed his style; no longer was he dressed in puritan settler chic, now he wore dark jeans with black converse, a white t-shirt with the runic symbol for creation in red, and a black sleeveless overcoat. It looked grunge, and John could almost appreciate it.

 Almost.

 “Now what does the infamous Witch Boy need that he’s ‘ported in 'on our lovely gathering?” John asked, seeing as the teen (an’ he looked like a proper teen now, didn’ he?) wasn’t feeling especially chatty. His defensive spell was almost complete, if John could just keep the lil shit distracted for a little longer-

 “Stupid heroes, I have come because I have a task for you,” the Witch boy announced, looking like he sucked a lemon while saying it.

 John could see a few others in the room looking at each other in confusion, but he kept his eyes firm on the brat in front of him. “Oh? An’ what task would require our services, oh mighty mage?”

 The Witch Boy’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly not liking the sarcasm in his tone. Surprisingly, to him at least, Klarion turned to Superman, not falling to the taunt like he would’ve before.

 “Someone I respect has been captured by the American government, and while I would have no problem raising the place to the ground myself-” more than a few of the heroes present tense at that, “-this person would only find more trouble in me doing so.”

 Now that brought up a nice heap of questions for the surrounding men in tights. Why, or better yet how does Klarion know someone that needs help from the Justice League. Someone who he apparently respects enough to go for help from a group of stuffy adults with sticks shoved so far up their-

 "And why should we help you?" The big ol' Bat asks what's on the tip of everyone's tongues.

 Klarion turns to the Caped Crusader with the most serious expression John had ever seen on the Witch Boy. "Because the High King of the Dead needs help escaping the living, and you guys love to make sure this stupid plane of existence doesn't fall to war."

~~~~~

   "You seriously aren't helping, Witch Boy!" Danny calls out to the cackling teenager as he evades yet another tentacle from the thing coming out of the side of a large floating island. More of a mountain, really, but Danny's a little too tied up to care.

 "Hit 'em again!" The pale-faced teen on the sidelines jeered as the ghost boy shot off another volley of ectoblasts towards what he's starting to dub as a hermit-ectopus. Grimacing, Danny did just that, raining a hail of green towards the writing mass of tentacles, finally pushing the thing back in its cave enough so that he could seal the entrance with ice.

 With that out of the way, Danny could finally take a breather. He put his hands on his knees for stability as he panted, annoyed. Ancients curse that stupid Witch Boy, he may not need to breathe in this form, but that was one hell of a workout. 

 The cackling to his left was finally starting to die down, but not before he heard the idiot making his way closer. One final exhale and he straightened back up, giving the other teen a side glare Mr. Lancer would be proud of.

 "Give me one good reason I shouldn't soup you right now, cat boy," he demanded with a scowl as he crossed his arms.

 "'Cause you still need me to help you get that stupid antidote for your stupid friends!" Klarion quipped back immediately, smug smirk stuck on his face. "Besides, it's not like your weak little can'll be able to do anything to me."

 "You're the one who poisoned them in the first place," he sneered back, letting his hatred of the other boy leak out through his aura while trying not to worry himself over Sam and Tucker back home.

 Klarion got closer, smirk growing menacingly wider, "Well who was the ghost that kept ignoring me? This is your fault and you know it."

 Danny said nothing, just punched Klarion in the face before flying off into the mountain grumbling, leaving the Witch Boy to deal with the blood falling onto his tie by himself.

~~~~~

   "Constantine, what do you know about this 'High King of the Dead'?" Batman asked after pulling the mage into the hall. They had left Superman to deal with the details and negotiations. He's always been better at that.

 "Not much, Batsy," John sighed, really wishing he could pull out a smoke. If it weren't for those blasted 'no smoking' rules the furry in front of him enforced, he'd be chugging like a train right 'bout now.

 Batman simply glared at the man for a moment before John got the unsaid ‘well, get on with it’. “Alright, alright, I do know some things, but I don’t know how useful they’ll be!”

 “Explain.”

 John sighed, “Not much information about the ruling body of the dead gets through to the realm of the living, that whole ‘dead men tell no tales’ bit. What I know of a King of the dead was that he was a right bastard that wanted his cake and e’ryone else's. Got locked in some coffin or what have you by his ruling court, and hasn’t been heard from for about two millennia ‘til the new one came about.”

 “And this new king, is he anything like the last one?”

 Before John could confirm or contradict the question a sharp laugh came from the other side of the conference doors. The two detectives looked at each other before heading back in, Klarion watching from his seat on the table as they rejoined the group.

 “The new High King of the Dead is nothing like the last one,” the Witch Boy stated with a sneer.

 Batman turned to Superman, asking with a silent tilt of the head. He got a head shake and shrug in return. “We were talking about why he would need us specifically when he just started laughing.”

 “Oh?” The occult detective spoke up, “And what makes you say that? If you respect him he must be pretty similar, eh? Why do you or him need our help?”

 Klarion looked down, a pinched expression taking over his face. “He’s nothing like me. He’s good.”

~~~~~

   Wind tore through Danny’s hair as he flew up to the massive Vortex rampaging through mid- America. He could barely see five feet in front of him before a tree or the rare car nearly takes him out of the sky. Klarion’s magic could be seen on his ten o’clock, trying to stop the raging wind before it throws something at him too. Danny dove to grab onto the magic caster, turning him intangible before the broad side of a barn could crash into him.

 “What did you even do to make him this angry‽” Danny yells over the wind, pulling the concentrating Witch boy to another spot so they could be harder to hit. It doesn’t help, as half a tree still nearly decapitates them.

 “Absolutely nothing!” Klarion ground back through his teeth, “He just started chasing me through the Realms! I thought I could lose him in this plane but he just followed me!”

 Another tree sailed their way, and Danny had to drag the other teen out of its path. He shot a volley of ectoblasts at some clumps of dirt launching themselves at them, breaking them up before they were close enough to hit them.

 “How long ‘til your spell finishes‽” Danny asks, throwing more ectoblasts into the swirling vortex of carnage. The tornado consumes them greedily, returning fire with debris from an old storage barn it had picked up.

 “Not fast enough!” Klarion shouts back, now flying under his own power as the harder parts of the spell conclude.

 They weave through projectiles after that, Danny obliterating the larger objects thrown their way so Klarion could focus more on his spell. They were at least lucky enough that they had lured Vortex out to farm country, where they could easily provoke him out of the way of any towns. That left just the crops and their tools for the weather ghost to throw.

 At least, until Danny spotted some larger buildings.

 “Better speed that spell up, Witch Boy!” Danny urged, realizing they were heading towards the city, and fast.

 “I’m going as fast as I can!” Was all the other teen could retort as he ground his teeth further, doubling his efforts anyway. Red light swirled fiercely around the pale boy, encircling him and his familiar before suddenly launching outwards to wrap around the tornado. The wind picked it up easily, quickly turning the angry winds and clouds above a sickening blood red colour. A triumphant grin spreads across Klarion’s face at the turn of events, a giggle bubbling up before being stolen by the wind. Danny would almost be scared at the situation if it were him that smile was going against, but right now he was just a little relieved.

 Klarion spoke one final word to his spell, and with it the red smoke pulsed bright, lighting up the whole cloud before the funnel just disappeared, leaving some dark yet still clouds above them. Danny could only stare at the sight in awe.

 “What did you do dude?” He asked, noticing the odd change in the air around them. It was strangely still, almost-

 “I froze the air in place, of course,” Klarion huffed hotly, and Danny turned his awed gaze to the teen next to him.

 “You froze the air?” 

 “Well,” Klarion’s cheeks started to gain an almost normal complexion as his blush rose at the attention. “It’s not frozen frozen, but I made it so it wouldn’t move. So yes, I froze the air.”

 When Danny didn’t move or change his expression Klarion’s blush only grew. Teekl gave a lax “meow” from the Witch Boy’s shoulders, breaking Danny’s trance and allowing Klarion the time to unruffle his proverbial feathers. The witch Boy coughed lightly in his hand as he turned away.

 “Teekl’s right, shouldn’t you be doing your job now? I’ve done all the hard work, pick up the slack Ghost Boy.” Only his familiar saw the light green blush spread over the ghosts cheeks before he gave a nod and flew off towards where he could sense the weather spirit.

 “Meow,” Teekl commented playfully.

 Klarion blushed harder, “Oh shut up you hairball.”

~~~~~

   The Javelin was speeding into earth's atmosphere towards the Americas, half of the Leaguers who had been in the meeting previously plus one chaos mage nestled inside. They had decided an impromptu rescue mission was in order, despite some worries of the Witch Boy leading item into a trap.

 Batman remedied this by keeping Superman on standby, Shazam on call, and taking Manhunter with them to catch any lies the teen might be telling them.

 The plane was dead quiet, and it was honestly making Hal antsy, especially sitting so close to someone they consider an enemy. His solution? Small talk.

 “So,” the green lantern drawled as he swiveled his chair to face the teen. “From the way you talk about this King it sounds like you have something a little more than ‘respect’ for the guy. Care to elaborate?”

 Klarion gave the Green Lantern a long side eye, making Hal even antsier in his seat. Seriously, how can a kid this dorky be this creepy?

 A terse meow from the cat in the boy’s lap and the stare broke, and suddenly Hal felt he could breathe again. Klarion sighed heavily, like the topic exhausted him before he even started, but before Hal could rescind his words the Witch Boy was talking.

 “The King of the Dead and I have known each other for a few years now,” he started. “And while at the beginning we were basically at each other's throats, after his coronation we figured out we didn’t really want to be enemies anymore. Looking back we had probably already decided that without saying anything, but it just got awkward to think about after.”

 “This king was crowned recently?” Batman asked from his place at the wheel.

 “Within the last three years, if I remember right,” Klarion replied flippantly. The Bat nodded, taking his focus back to flying to their charted destination. Not wanting more stifling silence, Hal picked the conversation back up.

 “If you’ve known the King of the Dead for over three years you guys must be pretty close, huh?”

 The Witch Boy huffed, “Yes, you could say that.”

 “So could you maybe tell us more about him? What’s he like? Does he have a hobby? Don’t leave us hanging man!” Hal was encroaching on a jeer with his tone, though he died down quickly at the flat stare he received from both mage and familiar. If Diana hadn’t spoken up he might've been afraid of turning into a toad.

 “I am also curious, Klarion. You haven’t told us much about someone you seem to care greatly over, anything you could tell us about them would help us settle whatever dealings they have with the American government.” At the moment the princess mentioned the government Teekl was on alert, Klarion’s expression soured with the change.

 “The ‘dealings’ they have with your stupid higher powers is that they want to hunt his kind for sport and resources,” He spat, to the astonishment of the league members. Bruce and Diana shared a glance from the front seats, dread seeping into Bruce’s gut at the news.

 “Could you explain that further? We need to know if we want to fix this,” Diana asked more seriously, motioning for Hal to take her seat as copilot so she could focus more on the conversation at hand.

 (Hal was thankful for the distraction.)

 “Your government,” the teen hissed, eyes glinting dangerously red before settling back to their eerie black. “Has been trying to catch Phantom since before I met him. They’ve deemed anything that holds ectoplasm in their body as unfeeling and mindless, and deemed them worthy of extermination and experimentation.”

 “That can’t be legal, non-humans are protected under the Metahuman rights acts.” Diana comments with a frown.

 Klarion rolls his eyes at the princess, “Everyone says that when they hear it, but I assure you, Phantom has talked my ear off about the Anti-ecto acts more times than I care to count. They’re real, and heavily enforced.”

 Diana gave a sidelong glance to the front of the ship, noticing Batman already searching for these ‘acts’ while ever so slightly speeding up their flight. It was worrying that even Bruce didn’t know about this, considering his incessant need to keep up with things that could inevitably cause harm to those he wants to protect. She left that for him to deal with, refocusing the conversation back to lighter topics. “You mentioned ‘Phantom’, is this the king’s name?”

 The Witch Boy gave a small hum, hand moving to idly stroke Teekl’s fur as they settled with the change of topic. “He told me it was originally the name he chose for himself when he started protecting his little town, and by the time he was crowned the ghosts all knew him by that name and it stuck.”

 “Oh? The king is a hero?” Aside from Deadman, she had never heard of any spirits calling themselves heroes. Though it wasn’t entirely a surprise that another spirit wished to help others from beyond the grave.

 Another hum from the teen in front of her, face reading more thoughtful as he presumably went back to the first time they had met. “Yes, he was doing something incredibly stupid, though he called it ‘heroic’ at the time. I still don’t see why he needed to destroy that artifact after he rewrote reality, but then again he was still a boy when he did that.”

 …

 “Pardon?” Diana said, stunned. Klarion either didn't notice the stunned silence he had created or didn’t care as he continued.

 “After that I went to play with him every so often, sometimes playing a few pranks so he would stop ignoring me. He absolutely hated me when we first started, but I like to think I grew on him,” the Witch Boy gave a smirk at the memory, still not noticing the silence in the shuttle.

 She could feel Hal’s eyes on them, incredulity practically oozing from his seat in front of her. Instead of meeting the Green Lanterns with one that was sure to match, she looked to J’onn, who had quietly been assessing their guest the whole flight. He had his head cocked as he faced the teen, but nodded when Diana turned. The boy told no lies.

 They might need to reassess this King of the Dead’s threat level.

~~~~~

   A cacophony of cheers resound in the courtyard of Pariah’s Keep, now renamed officially to Phantom’s Fortress with the crowning of the new king. Danny peered out from beyond the curtain to the courtyard, his ascendance ceremony freshly ended and a crown of arora and ice twirling lazily over his snow white hair.

 “I still can’t believe this many ghosts want me on the throne… I thought everyone hated me with the way I chase them out of Amity all the time…” He marveled to himself, still not quite believing what just happened. He was a King now. He had people to rule. And they actually liked him.

 Though with the reputation of the last king, he supposed that a potato could’ve taken the throne and they would’ve been happy.

 “Is it that hard to believe that maybe you aren’t that hard to like?” A voice jokes from behind the new king, and turning from his peeping spot he couldn’t help the grin that spread. Klarion was standing not too far behind him, one arm behind his back in the clothes they picked out together. He looked good, like he belonged in this century now, and even with his posture radiating nervous energy, Danny could tell he was a lot more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans than that stuffy puritan suit.

 “I was thinking those odds were in-phantasmal, but I guess the chance was higher than I thought. I’m glad you could make it.” His smile grew slightly at the pink tint to the Witch Boy’s ears, but he went against the thought of pointing out how cute it was.

 Klarion scoffed, as though the notion of not coming was even something that crossed his mind. “As a lord of chaos, it would be remiss of me to not show up for the coronation of a potential fellow lord. Besides, you asked me to come specifically, it would be impolite to refuse.”

 Danny gave a snort at the response, he knew very well that if the other teen didn’t want to be here he would’ve refused the invitation outright. It was nice not having to fight the other anymore, after the battle with Vortex they started fighting less and hanging out more, Danny could even take him to the mall now without a struggle. Sure, Klarion was still trapped in the past with his underground village, but slowly he was starting to relax, have some fun that didn’t destroy everything around him.

 It was nice to hang out with someone he didn’t have to hold back with.

 “So, is there a reason you’re just standing there awkwardly?” Danny asked, letting a chuckle escape at the flat stare he received. A year ago he would’ve gotten a magic blast to the face for that.

 Instead Klarion sighed, eyes glancing around the ornate hall before sighing again. “I figured- I mean- I- ugh…” the Witch Boy kept stuttering before petering off into a grumble. Danny accidentally let another chuckle escape at how cute the other teen was being, causing said teen to glare a hole into the carpet, before letting out a growl. He stomped up to Danny, so close he had to back up a step or they would be in each other's personal space, and suddenly his vision was full of orange and purple with a spatter of red.

 Another step back put the colours in focus. A bouquet of flowers was being thrust towards him by a furiously blushing Klarion, whose eyes were currently on a rather interesting vase.

 “What are these for?” Danny asked as he relieved the bouquet from the others' vice grip.

 “For you, to congratulate you on becoming king. The orange ones are lilies, the purple flowers are irises and gerberas, and the little red ones are bloody williams. The lady at the store said they say “I’m happy for your success” in flower language.” Klarion looked like he was ready to say more, he probably had a whole speech about these, but Danny just couldn’t get over the fact that one of the biggest (previous) pains in his ass just started blushing and gave him flowers.

 “Thank you,” he said, cutting off whatever Klarion was rambling about with a genuine smile. Klarion stared for a second, before blinking and clearing his throat.

 “Of course,” he replied, blush spreading all the way down his neck.

~~~~~

   The Javelin touched down a ways off of a squat white building. It was rather nondescript, save for the perimeter fencing circling the compound lined with guards.

 “This is the place?” Batman asked tersely as they disembarked the plane. None of the armed men had seen them yet, it would give them the advantage in the infiltration.

 “I wouldn’t lie to you about something so important,” the Witch Boy replied, narrowing his eyes at the compound before them. He could feel Danny in there, the strange mix of life and death energies radiating off the half-ghost was an ever present comfort to the Witch boy by now, and he was especially glad for it now.

 He wouldn’t have been able to find him so quickly without it.

 “I sense something heavy in the compound,” Manhunter noted with a frown.

 Batman, ever the detective, wanted to know more, “Elaborate.”

 The martian’s face twisted as he focused, reaching out with his mind to better read the heavy -no, oppressive- cloud that covered the compound, before gasping, recognition and anguish passing over as he physically recoiled. Green Lantern was there to steady him by the shoulders before he could so much as stumble.

 “What did you feel?” The Dark Knight compelled once it was clear there were no lasting effects of his reaching out.

 “Pain,” he replied shakily. “So much pain and suffering, hanging over the building like a fog. It is unnaturally powerful, if I hadn’t known beforehand, I would assume an entire city was under attack and not a single building.”

 The Dark Knight said nothing, simply taking what was said to heart. He moved forward with purpose, but before he could get too far a hand held him back. “Wait.”

 Batman looked down at the chaos mage, a single hand splayed out over his chest. “You need to know some things before I take you in there.”

 The  miniscule tilt of the taller man’s cowl was all Klarion needed to continue. “The facility is phase proof, the martian won’t be able to density shift through the walls, and the nature of their weapons are similar to Green Lantern’s constructs. You won’t get hurt badly if they hit you, but I’ve been told they burn.” All vital things to know. Batman's strategy would have to account for this, but he could still sense something from the teen, and so kept quiet.

 “And when we find Phantom? Get every agent you can out of there. He doesn’t like senseless killing, but I will not leave that building standing.”

 Batman gave a single nod, and with that Klarion enveloped the five in the red mist of his magic.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The plan was rather simple, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were to be dropped off at the entrance to the building as a distraction and to round up the agents while Klarion, Manhunter and Batman were to use Klarion’s magic to infiltrate and locate the King. Klarion’s mist acted as a memetic, letting the gaze of the agents fall past them on their way through the building as they ran deeper to where he could feel Danny. They had to be careful to not touch anyone though, as the moment they did they would be able to see them.

 “Why can’t you teleport us in?” Baman asked as they rounded another stark white corner into another stark white hall.

 “Death energies, do strange things to magic,” Klarion panted his reply. He was not used to actually running, and he couldn’t figure out why some humans actually liked doing the activity. “With so much, charged death and ectoplasm in the air, better to not cause an explosion. So soon.”

 Another swerve and he could feel Danny more, could almost taste that distinct flavour of citrus and menthol, the strange combination of ectoplasm and life that surrounded his ghost. The smell of citrus was strong though, and Klarion was desperately hoping he wasn’t too late with this rescue. The first real good thing he tries to do and he ends up a moment too late.

 “The source of the pain is drawing nearer,” Manhunter informs them as they pass a windowed room. Batman breaks off to take a look inside, calling to the other two to keep going. Klarion never stopped.

 One more corner and the acidic sour smell of citrus was assaulting their noses, and they started passing doors more resembling operating room entrances than offices. Lights were still on over a few as they passed, and Klarion made sure to snake a coil of mist into those that did, leaving screams and indistinct, cut off pleas in their wake. Those ones especially could rot in hell for all he cared, the smell of everdeath roiled off those rooms, alluding to whatever horrors might have been performed in them. He knew only a fraction of the ectoplasm spilt in there was from the one he cherished, but that made them no less guilty.

 The final turn led them to a hall lined with a different type of door, these ones steel grey tinted green. Klarion loathed to see the colours he associated with his spirit used in a mockery against him, keeping Danny away from him. He stalked down, using his magic to blow every door off its hinges as he passed until he hit the one his beloved was in. Turning to face it, he held up his hand, willing his magic to grasp it and tear it from the wall, throwing it down the hall and uncaring what was in the way.

 Emotion charged ectoplasm rolled out of the small cell, settling around their feet like fog and weakly intermingling with klarion’s magic.

 The sight made the mage want to puke. And weep. And decimate this measly world that would dare touch his soul like this.

 Were it not for the Martian's presence he just might have.

 Danny was there, shackled to the wall with chains at his wrists and ankles, head weighed heavy by the collar around his neck and the fucking muzzle on his face. The ghost made no move to the light that now filtered into the space, he hung limply from his chains, lifelessly. Only the faint glow around Danny’s frame gave away that he was not yet truly ended.

 But the green.

 A shaky breath from behind the mage reminded him where he was, and he urgently entered the room. He went to work on the manacles, seemingly seamless, but with one whispered word they were releasing Danny into his arms.

 “Is he?..” The martian started, too afraid to finish the sentence lest it become a reality.

 “No,” Klarion breathed out shakily. “No he’s still… He’ll recover.” He has to.

 “He’s so young,” Manhunter observed with a pained face as Klarion lowered to the floor of the cell, turning the ghost so he could hold him by the shoulders while he worked on getting his ankles freed.

 “He was even younger when he started,” with Danny's ankles freed, all that was left was the inhibitor collar and that damned muzzle. He did away with the muzzle first, desperate to see his cherished spirit's face. No magic was needed for it, thankfully, just a simple lock keeping it around the halfa’s face. Klarion gingerly removed the offending device, tossing it at a wall and making a note of obliterating it before he left. There were already chafe marks around Danny’s cheeks and on his nose, green and nearly raw from it pressing his jaw shut.

 How long has he been here for them to look so raw?

 Klarion had only been away for two months at the most, off on some insignificant errand after finding the piece of an artifact drifting in the Realms. Insignificant because apparently while he was away, his cherished one had gotten captured trying to save one of his people from this moronic group. When he had finally returned, he had to be informed about his capture. The rage he felt then… He hopes Danny wouldn’t be too mad at him for the damage he caused to the Fortress.

 A breathy groan followed by a sharp intake of breath and subsequent coughing brought Klarion out of his what if spiral. Danny was waking up, bleary eyed and confused at first -no doubt concerning his orientation- but a few seconds after the couches settled green eyes focused on black.

 “Hey, Rion,” the ghost king gave a small watery smile. “Glad you could finally make it. How was  your adventure?”

 “Stupid ghost-” Klarion has to reel back the power he was putting behind his voice with a breath that came out more like a sob. “Do you know how worried I was when you weren’t in Amity? In the Fortress? I was away for two damn months and you almost got yourself ended Danny!”

 Danny gave a chuckle that teetered into more of a cough as he weakly wiggled in Klarions lap. “They tried to grab Lunch Lady and Boxed Lunch, what was I supposed to do? It's my job as king to keep them safe-”

“NOT AT YOUR OWN EXPENSE YOU MORON!”

 The outburst silenced the ghost with a small snap of his jaw, followed by a cut off groan at the soreness from its disuse. A light cough broke the tense silence, and Danny sat up slightly to see what made it, eyes immediately sharp with alertness for any possible danger. His eyes landed on Martian Manhunter and that sharpness melted away to confusion.

 “Is that- why- Am I dreaming?” He stuttered, looking between the Justice leaguer and his lover. “Did I pass out so hard I’m actually dreaming my boyfriend came to save me with Martian Manhunter right now? Someone pinch me.” Klarion obliged the request and Danny yelped in pain. “Yep, okay, not a dream. Cool,” He whimpered, eyes now glued to the martian.

 Klarion went back to the task of freeing the ghost from his restraints, but hesitated before taking the collar off. “Do you have enough power to stay in this form if I take this off you?” He asked cautiously.

 Danny looked down, trying to see the band of metal around his neck, but quickly gave up with a sigh. “Probably not, it's taking most of my energy just to stay awake and talk right now.” He looked ashamed to say it, but Klarion was relieved to get a straight answer about his condition for once.

 “I’ll leave it on until we get you somewhere safe then,” Klarion whispered before readjusting his hands and standing up with the ghost boy bridal-style. The energy must have been draining from his cherished, as he only jolted at the movement. He could see Danny's eyes getting heavy, his head pitching forward before righting itself a few more times.

 “You’ll be there when I wake up… Right?” The Ghost boy asked, voice slurring with the effort to remain conscious. Klarion nodded once as he kissed the ghost's forehead -warmer than it should be- and walked back out of the cell. “Of course, my spirit. Rest.”

 One more wobbly nod and the ghost’s eyes closed. Klarion straightened, reigniting his magic with the help of Teekl and pushing it to blow the rest of the cell doors off their hinges. A few other ghosts floated out, and Manhunter helped a few more into the hall. They left slowly, with magical fire crackling in the prison that once held his spirit, catching the ectoplasm alight as the Witch Boy’s face contorted.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The trip back to the Javelin was shorter than the trip into the facility, without the need to be covert they were able to retrace their steps through the building at a much faster pace. Batman regrouped with them just before the exit, and out in the grounds Green Lantern and Wonder Woman had done a great job of distracting and subduing most of the agents. One of them must have gone in and rounded up the scientists too, because they were tied up in a neat little pile a ways off.

 Good, he could burn this place to the ground without worry then.

 Klarion didn’t stop his stride out the compound as his magic spread to lick the walls, fire sparking to life where it touched. He didn’t stop to watch as the fire spread up the walls unnaturally fast, as it spread into the building through the holes it was melting in the reinforced glass. He didn’t pause when an explosion hit the air, the fire most likely finding the medical wing or the weapons vault.

 Klarion only stopped once Danny was securely in the small medbay of the Javelin, held securely in place for takeoff.

~~~~~

   Danny came to slowly, letting the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone fill his lungs as he breathed deeply… Wait. Ectoplasm? Ghost Zone?? Lungs???

 Screw waking up slowly, Danny bolted up from wherever he was sleeping… and immediately regretted it. A massive headache assaulted his senses, along with about a dozen other aches and pains from his capture, most notably his jaw and starving stomach. Still, assessing the situation came before anything else, so he tried to make himself vertical despite his body's protests. Until a hand on his chest stopped him.

 Klarion met his bleary eyed confusion with a stern stare. He pushed down once more and this time Danny didn’t protest the movement. “It wasn’t a dream?” Danny croaked out, only a little bit surprised at how dry his voice sounded.

 “No it wasn’t a dream,” Klarion replied softly as he pressed a straw to Danny's lips. He was grateful for the first full drink of water he’d gotten in… he doesn't remember how long.

 “And Martian Manhinter? Was he real too then?” Danny asked when his throat no longer felt like sandpaper. Klarion hummed an affirmative as he put the cup back on the nightstand, idly stroking Teelke with his offhand. He takes a second to process that before he nearly bolts up again, startling the familiar and mage alike.

 “Is the Justice League here‽‽”

 A pregnant pause followed the exclamation before the Witch Boy gave a snort, snickering to avoid outright laughing at the bedridden ghost. “No, I left the little humans to fly back to their clubhouse while I took you back to the Realms with a portal.”

 Deflating with the explanation, Danny’s eyes travelled the embroidered constellations on the canopy of his bed, finally relaxing enough to appreciate where he was. Home. He took another deep breath, feeling his ectoplasm replenish itself more than it had in the last month in the GIW facility. The ectoplasm combined with the pine and fire smell of the mage sitting beside him only enforced the fact that he wasn’t there anymore. Tears threatened to fall with that thought.

 His boyfriend came for him. He didn’t doubt he would, but the days passed along and he was starting to lose hope. But not only did Rion come for him, he brought the Justice League, a group he knows Rion has beef with. Traitorously, a tear managed to escape and roll down into his hair.

 “You know, I’ll have to go talk to the League now that you’ve told them about me,” Danny commented, desperate to get out of those thoughts and ignoring the way his voice wobbled.

 “I’m sure you will,” Rion replied, no doubt with a roll of his eyes. “But you need to heal first. You’re in no shape to go talk to a bunch of stupid humans right now.”

 Danny gave a snort, “Those ‘stupid humans’ helped you get me back, right? Maybe drop the stupid when we see them next.”

 Rion only grunted in reply, and so they lapsed into silence again. Danny felt sleep pulling at his mind again, now that he knew he was truly safe with his beloved mage beside him. He didn't fight it for long, but he needed to say one more thing before he truly allowed himself to start healing.

 “Rion,” he mumbled out, getting the attention of the mage with a hum. “Thanks for coming to get me, love you.”

 A rare kind of smile passed the pale teen’s lips then, soft and kind. “I love you too, Danny.”