#yeah i'm taking full responsibility for this

[solidaritygaming-fanblog]

just remembered that Jimmy was like a teacher. to children. like this man was temporarily legally responsible for like 30 or so children lmao

BUT hear me out

teacher Jimmy wing fic au

he teaches the kids maths and English and how to properly look after their wings and preen them

he almost always goes home w bows n clips in his wings from the kids "helping" him preen. at the end of the year he gives each kid one of his feathers can u imagine 🥹

who would be the kids and who would be the other teachers? ik in that one kindergarten au on twitter (if I could remember name I think they have a Tumblr too I'm so sorry if someone else knows tell me bc I love their au it's so cute) that Cleo is another teacher bc they were also a teacher before streaming/yt full time

I feel like cub would be a science teacher like he has a PhD in science right?

skizz n impulse are gems parents. etho is bdubs dad. Joe's swears he doesn't have a crush in bdubs dad bc yes he's pretty but Lizzie is even prettier

(Lizzie, following a butterfly in the yard: did u say smth Joel???

Joel: no why would you even say that- or think that anyway here's an awesome flower from me its awesome bc I'm awesome

Lizzie:... k)

grian and pearl are twins and also Jimmy's cousins so he has a hard time bc they don't take him seriously that often lol

but they're territorial over who gets to help Jimmy preen his wings. like Jimmy heels them oreen their wings at home so I KNOW they will only allow the best for timmy. like they can make him look silly for other things but wings are Serious Business and they'll only accept the best for their jimmy.

and jimmy takes them home when he can. I like to think that if they've had an long day and are tired (and bc Jimmy's wings are fkn HUGE) he walks them home while carrying them in his wings like a mini nest. he sometimes does this w the other kids (if they're hurt or feeling unwell) and u know the twins give him the silent treatment after they are mad at Timmy >:/ yes definitely mad >:/ wait is Timmy putting grian and pearl in the in the wing nest nvm he's the best ever actually

bc I'm on a scaridarity kick lately let's have scar being another teacher. he's in a wheelchair and can't use his wings bc prosthetics are expensive but he loves teaching kids how to fly. (maybe later on Jimmy carries scar as he flies to let him feel the sky again). I feel like he would be a teachers assistant just going from class to class. he does magic shows in the yard at lunch sometimes (and in class but shhh don't tell the other teachers) so he's kinda one of the favourite teachers. I imagine his wheelchair is COVERED in stickers from the kids. also one day when Jimmy is walking grian and pearl home he tags along and he lets them sit in his lap and starts ZOOMING giving Jimmy a heart attack lmao

(also I can imagine the kids in the class flip flopping btw getting Mr Timmy to ask Mr scar on a date and being extremely jealous and over protective of Jimmy that they don't like letting scar in the classroom lmaooo I know grian is an instigator)(one day Mr tango was talking to Mr Jimmy and said smth about a "date" (it was w zed) and now the class has deemed him a Mortal Enemy so ig Mr scar is here to stay. someone (bdubs) said that they thought Mr tango was nice and grian put them in exile)

- duck anon who really wants to find that kindergarden au pls I am begging

Oh YEAH- sometimes I remember he was a gym teacher and I just have a massive brain melt like huh.

wing fic *Looks at you with my big ol eyes* I love wing fics

AAAHAHAHWBEHAVDHEIWHW THSIR IS SO CUTE IM GONNA DIEEEEE

I think the kindergarten au is also on here? It might be called little life but I have no clue who made it honestly....

Cub and cleo would totally also be teachers. AND SCARIDARIRY TEAFHERS YES BOOM SHAKALAKA YERAAAHHHH

This is so fucking cute aaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

[cjgladback]

My mom requested fridge art from her daughters. And I'd already sketched one siren a bit after first seeing that one post, but that composition definitely will require the layers afforded by digital painting. So behold! A fire engine and its siren. Not too shabby for both my yellow and red markers giving up the ghost while I wasn't paying attention the last few years.

(This is the first time I've really seen how Tumblr size compression can murder a gif, but it wasn't at all helpful at the 540px width so click for quality.)

I did color in the wipers I'd forgotten and make the emblem on the door slightly more legible while editing my phone pic.

Image descriptions under the cut:

[ID: First image is a colorful drawing of a fire engine seen in three-quarters profile, driving toward camera left. On the roof of the truck's cab is a rough rock formation with a large mermaid lying on it, her tail draped down between the cab and trailer of the truck, her left arm pressing against the rocks, and her head held high while she speaks into a megaphone in her right hand. Her hair streams behind her toward a spiky word bubble with a zigzagged electronic tail that reads, "Get out th'way!" in all-caps. The headlights and amber light bar above the truck windshield are all on and the pavement and traffic lines below are represented with horizontal slashes of marker. The drawing is inked with even, thin black lines (a micron pen size 02) and colored with varied hatching with non-blending markers. On close inspection, the emblem on the fire engine's door reads "escucha las sirenas" in all-caps, Spanish for both "listen to the sirens" and "listen to the mermaids."

Second image is a gif of phone camera pictures showing six stages of the fire engine siren process and the final digital edit. First pencil sketch; second all but the lettering inked; third all but the lettering pencil marks erased; fourth inked word bubble with more emphatic italicized lettering; fifth the beginning layers of marker where the artist took a break with some yellow-orange, light red-orange, light blue, and periwinkle mostly over the truck cab; sixth the fully colored phone picture; and finally the edited shot with the white of the page and vibrancy of the colors restored as well as a coloring in the space around the door emblem with a brighter red for readable contrast. End ID]

[essektheylyss]

I am obsessed with how narratively convenient Lark's divinatory abilities are. She's the only one of the protagonists who is both pragmatic and has a working sense of self-preservation, so having some internal impulse that is actually the guiding hand of the cosmos pushing her into doing the REALLY stupid shit is both necessary and really useful.

Like, I am the type of writer who kind of scoffs at the idea that characters are beyond the writer's control and will completely screw over your outline, because on one hand, a sensible outline will follow the characters' personalities and tendencies anyway. Obviously in an ensemble cast you will need to do some wrangling, but in theory your characters are responding to varying degrees of stimuli in order to maneuver them into the places you need them to be for things to all come together in the end.

But more importantly, "curse from god" is the funniest and easiest way to push any character to do things beyond the realm of reason when necessary, and frankly, what the fuck is the point of playing god if you don't embrace that?

[cerbreus]

i wanted to get a new camera this year after like 15 years maybe even one that can take the kind of photos i have been wanting to be able to take for fucking ages but am held back from because my camera just can't do those shots and cant swap lenses but i guess i'm not getting a camera this year

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.

[ailinu]

preserve us from edgelords. good lord.

[arcxnumvitae]

When is Aur going to have his F.rozen™ music video L.et It G.o™ moment?

[demonsfate]

Who's dumber like lmao

[airs-headspace]

Sometimes I look at JJ SW and I'm like "oh gurl.... oh babe.... oh darling" like....................... I FEEL SO BAD?????

[amethystina]

Anonymous raccoon here once again escaping from my garbage can. I’m really glad to hear that your former stepdad is out of the hospital and I’m sorry to hear that your aunt is in the hospital :( Wishing her a speedy recovery. You’ve definitely been getting put through the wringer both through life issues and health issues and I’m wishing that you have a moment to yourself to breathe. Taking things slowly is soooo important and I’m glad you’ve been reading at least! One of the best ways to wind down I feel like lol.

And man, in terms of the therapist I feel you. I’ve struggled with therapists due to already having done so much gah damn reading previously and learning so many strategies etc. But you’re right - you’re the patient and it’s his job to figure things out! Even if you’re possibly a trickier patient. So I hope that you find a therapist (or that this one) crunches some thoughts in his brain and finds maybe a completely different way to approach things. I’m of the opinion that there is no defined way to do therapy and sometimes it’s necessary to go a lil off the rails and off the books. Wishing you luck and sending good vibes your way in hope things are only uphill (positively) from now.

Thank you so much 💜 My aunt is being very tight-lipped about her condition, unfortunately, so at the moment it's a case of "no news is good news." I'm assuming she's doing better because I haven't heard that she's died, basically.

Taking things slow is very important, yes, and I wish I could do it more than I am right now, but the truth is that things have been unravelling for the past year and it's all coming to a head. I haven't really discussed this openly before (because I get very defensive about certain aspects of my private life) but, to make a very long story short, my wife got sick last summer which left me to take care of practically everything within the household for about six months. And I do mean everything.

Which is another reason why I've been so tired. We have a very big house and I was already burnt out and exhausted, but suddenly had to singlehandedly make sure we didn't starve or the house fell apart. And this is on top of deaths and illnesses and worrying about my wife and various stresses at work, yes. It was rough. And honestly pushed me closer to a complete breakdown than I have ever been in my entire life — which, considering the life I've had, is saying something.

So, all things considered, I'm kind of surprised I'm even functional at this point?

My wife is doing a lot better now, thankfully, but I still have to do the majority of the household chores that involve physical exertion. And, after much agonising and deliberation, I had to put on my big girl pants and talk to my wife about selling the house because I simply can't take care of it on my own. It's too much work for one person, especially considering how easily exhausted I am. And even if we love this house, we both agreed that it's the best course of action. And, while we're at it, we're going to be moving into separate apartments because it's become more and more apparent that I need more space and alone time. I want to live on my own again.

We're going to stay married, though! And probably spend a lot of time together. We're just not going to live together.

And, unsurprisingly, all of this is taking up a lot of energy and space inside my head right now. There's a lot to do in terms of the house and getting it sold, then finding apartments for us both, and getting ready to move. I'm optimistic and think this will be an improvement to my energy levels in the long run, but there's still a lot left to do before I can reap any of the benefits.

So I won't be able to take things slow for the foreseeable future, unfortunately 😅

Anyhow. My therapist has already told me that he doesn't think he can contribute all that much to how I'm dealing with my stresses and issues because I already have so many strategies in place. It took three appointments. Which is almost a new record! But only almost.

I don't hold that against him, though (and he did tell me to reach out again if things got too overwhelming) but yeah. I'm an incredibly difficult client and I think I unsettle a lot of therapists because I understand myself so well already and they're not used to that. They get confused when they don't have to hold my hand all the time and I can reach my own conclusions, often in between appointments. And I look fine, you know? And can express myself so eloquently and thoroughly, so surely my problems aren't bothering me that much? Surely I've got this covered?

Or at least that's what they tell me.

My therapist did thank me for being so interesting to talk to, though? He said it was fun and fascinating to talk to someone so perceptive, introspective, and wise. So that's a compliment, I guess? He's by no means a bad therapist, I want to point out, but it's clear that he's used to working with people who need more simple and direct guidance. So definitely not the best fit for me. But, if nothing else, I got an opportunity to voice all the thoughts currently whirling around inside my brain and could get validation from an outside source. Which is something?

But yeah. No more therapist appointments for me, apparently, and a lot of my attention is going to have to go to selling the house and moving. Though I suspect the moving won't happen for another six months or so, at the earliest. But we'll see.

Thank you so much for checking in again 💜 It feels a bit like I just keep piling on more and more tragedies and crises every time someone asks me how I'm doing, but that's just my life right now I guess? And, as mentioned, it sometimes takes a while before I'm actually comfortable or willing to mention some of them out loud. I'm, uh, a little too adept at shouldering burdens in silence. So this has actually been going on in the background for months already, I just haven't wanted to talk about it until now.

But yeah. In case you wanted another reason as to why I haven't been able to write as much lately, there you have it. Life's just been really difficult this past year.

But here's to hoping that things will get better once the house is sold and I can move into my own apartment? And hopefully get more peace and quiet? And just focus on taking care of myself for once?

I want to stay positive.

Thank you again and please take care 💜

[margindoodles2407]

Star Wars Fandom I Am Once Again On My Knees Begging You To Stop With The Discourse For The Love Of All We Hold Dear

Looking At You Especially Clone Wars Subfandom

Respect Each Other

[anantaru]

your first time with him — love and deepspace

synopsis. taking your virginity

including. zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb

warnings. fem! reader, taking your v-card, reader is a virgin, dirty talk

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ zayne

zayne was anxious, very much so, trembling with his excitement as his forehead presses to your throat, his breath shaky with how hard he's trying to hold himself together, "are you sure?" he whispers at first, even though his hands were already gripping against your hips, like your yes would be the only thing that ever mattered.

and when you gave it to him, a silken sweet, real, response, he exhales like he's on the brink of dying, like you're honestly saving him with your answer.

"you don't get to take this back," he utters within a hoarse tone, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear ever so softly, "you give it to me, you chose me."

he says it like it's something sacred, like he's owed the softness between your legs, the stutter of your breath, the shiver of your thighs clamped around his hips, all in all with his hands slowly spreading you open, bare and exposed beneath him, untouched, and the glimmer in his eyes was honestly luscious, like zayne wanted to burn this moment into you until it scarred.

and then, well, he pushes in as your back arches immediately, the stretch resembling fire— like your body was folding in on itself trying to take him fully.

you cry out without meaning to, your voice cracking, the pain sharp and intimate and new, fuck, you've never felt anything like it. something so thick and overwhelming was repeatedly pushing through you, the friction of him splitting you open— muscle dragging against muscle, tight and wet and far too much.

"fuck, listen to that," he snarls against you with gritted teeth as his hips inch forward again, the sound of him sinking into you beginning to be loud and soaked, not to mention raw as your pussy clenches hard and somewhat instinctive.

zayne groans the moment he feels your body accepting him— he was, in fact, utterly gone by this point, finding himself in heaven in the way you whined for him.

your pussy clung to his length as his hand clumsily fumbles at your hip, trying to slow himself down, trying not to break you, fuck, but his rhythm falters and his mouth finds your throat instead— hot and open kisses battering all over your flesh with teeth scraping just to feel you twitch again.

your legs were out of control, thighs shaking around his waist as you didn't know it would feel like this— like you're being hollowed out from the inside, like there's no room and no air, nothing, no way to separate the ache from the pleasure that's already bleeding in at the edges.

you can feel him for real this time— hot and thick and twitching inside you, truly, feel every vein, every slow drag of his cock pressing against that too sensitive place that made your toes curl, such place you didn't know existed in the first place.

after a while, you adjust a little and get used to the new feeling as he's trying to go deeper, over calculating on how much your virgin cunt could take as you suck in a ragged breath and sob out something broken yet sweet, your fingernails digging into his back and still, zayne never stops memorizing your reactions.

his pelvis presses flush to yours as you cry out again, your stomach tight with unbearable pressure as a dull pulse starts to throb low and hard into your tightness with your nerves fried and limbs shaking.

the pain and heat on your split cunt blurs at the edges and gradually develops into pleasure, everything reduced to the feeling of being full and completely owned as you find solace in the new sensation making you addicted to his touch.

"i told you," he breathes out, his voice tight like he's holding his heart in his teeth, "this isn't just sweet, yeah? it's not just soft, this is real, love, this is you giving yourself to me, and sweetheart, i'm not letting go."

ever so, zayne was careful even now, even with how fast he was going, how ruined you felt around him because, well, he's a doctor, wasn't he? he's spent his whole life learning how to fix what's broken, yet with you, all he wanted to do was feel you, let the control slip just for once, let this moment etch itself into your bones.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ xavier

xavier watches you fall apart like he's taking notes— yet he wasn't frantic, he was patient and methodical, a hunter who's already mapped your collapse long before the first touch as with each squeeze and kiss, he shows you that it wasn't curiosity calling him— it's certainty that he wanted this to be with you. forever.

he's towering over you, his breath caught somewhere between awe and hunger, "you're really giving this to me?" he whispers, almost in disbelief, drowning in the moment with his speech being the only thing keeping him afloat, "i'm so lucky,"

his fingers flex tight against the inside of your thighs with his nails biting in, holding you open like a wound as the warmth of his palms burn through your skin.

you feel him there, right here yeah? feel it everywhere.

his cock splits you slow and brutally, the stretch pulling a sob from your chest as your lungs felt too small to bear it and your ribcage too tight to hold it down, your whole body resisting and yearning in the same breath. although he moves deeper, dragging thick through you and you swear you could feel the shape of him break you, feeling it in every vein and every twitch moving forward, every grind of bone and flesh into your virgin cunt being taken so well.

"see?" xavier breathes, frayed with hunger, "you're taking me, even when you said you couldn't."

but it aches— fuck, it aches, you cannot stop moaning, every press of him grinding up against something electric inside of your cunt making your back arch, your fingers clawing at the sheets.

it's slick too, soaking wet and overwhelming— your thighs all sticky with slick and arousal as his hips slam wet and fast into yours with a rhythm that felt like pain turned to pleasure.

your nerves were on fire and everything from the inside out of your body pulses with your belly drawn taut, consistingly multiplying in pressure as his cock fucks into you drastically, your head empty except for the maddening throbs his erection put inside you. at this point, your voice had become a mess of moans and pleas as all you could hear were grunts and hisses intertwining with your very own noises.

xavier felt just so good— he's out of this world and treating you so well, reaching places you never thought were able to be reached in the first place as he grew quite confident in his movements.

whenever he brushed his cock against your walls, you could feel your high approaching with every new snap of his hips, the position he had you in allowing the tip of his cock to reach deep enough for you to properly get used to it.

sweat clings between your bodies and turns you into one, your skin burning and flushed as the air was thick with pheromones and whines and the soft, saccharine coated sounds of him driving into you over and over and over again.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ rafayel

you cannot speak and it's futile to even try.

instead, your lips were parted, with breath stuck somewhere between a gasp and a sob as your chest rose with shallow, shuddering motion when rafayel slides his cock inside for the very first time— slow, of course, with his mouth at your ear, "relax," he whispers as his tip bumps upwards, sloppily thrusting into your folds, "you gotta let me in."

your muscles resist although at last, they seize around the stretch with the burn being intoxicating. you're a little anxious about it and he notices by how hard your nails clawed at his biceps— stabilizing yourself to anything while he adjusted himself, inch by inch making you take more of his cock into the small, untouched part of you.

such place no one else has ever felt, and fuck, rafayel's mouth waters at the thought, and well— he admires you, drinks in your struggles to take him as his breath comes sharp through his nose, although his hands remained steady.

one wraps around the base of your spine, the other cradles your jaw as he keeps your head turned just enough for him to study every flicker of pain that crosses your face, "you feel that?" he asks, voice a little raspy, "that's the shape of me, don't resist it,"

you whimper, your thighs slick with sweat and the mess of him spreading slow inside you and ugh, the pain, without rafayel being so considerate and talking you through the entire process, you wouldn't be able to handle it— it's so sharp and gnawing and too much, it brings you to tears, the unrelenting force of him coiling somewhere deep inside your gut, becoming unbearable.

how flustered you have gotten considering he wasn't even all the way in yet, yet you already felt like you're being broken in half.

with that, rafayel laughs when your hips involuntarily twitch, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand and murmuring so softly it vibrates through you, "you're doing so well for me, sweetheart, so brave, letting me be your first."

his lips trail down your throat as he groans when you shiver around him, every inch dragging liquid fire through the both of you, "you feel that? how warm you are? how soft you are around me? like you were made for this— for me."

your shy gaze averts from his heavy one as he found it so unbelievably cute and amusing that you still managed to feel embarrassed even after taking his cock so perfectly with your cunt by now.

rafayel pauses his hips for a bit, his forehead sensually pressed to yours, "you're not hurting, are you? I can stop— i'd rather die than hurt you," if only he knew you thought if only he could go faster now.

fuck, your head falls back when you urge him to continue moving, his hand dancing over your stomach as he abruptly presses down— always gently, just enough for you to feel him moving deeper inside within an invading force.

"you like that? you want me to do it again?" he smirks, "you're so tight, don't even know how to take it myself, but fuck, i'll teach you, i'll teach you until your body only knows me."

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sylus

you taste like need when sylus kissed you with your lips swollen, breath catching and the edge of panic sweetened on your tongue as his fingers trail down teasingly, forever feather light when your entire body tenses under the rub of skin on skin.

he treasures the lust in your limbs and the sheen of tears catching light in your lashes as his hands remain careful, but not hesitant, no, sylus was never hesitant.

he's memorizing every inch of you with that predator's patience— every hitch in your breath, every place that made your spine arch and your thighs twitch and now he's touching you like he's memorized the blueprints of your body.

sylus grinds into you with utter patience as he pushes through your sensitive hole, inserting just the head of course, just enough to make you feel the impossible stretch of him as your body betrays you.

a sound escapes and scratches your throat, truly, it was unrecognizable when you moaned his name for the first time, as if your soul had tried to flee through you and kiss his lips.

"you're shaking," his voice was velvet, stretched thin and vibrating desperately, surely about to snap, "do you want me to stop?" a pause lingers between your lips as his hand finds yours, "tell me, and I will, but if you want this, if you want me, i'll be so gentle with you."

sylus cannot take his eyes of you, he's breathless, as if that noise were a sacred thing, a proof of something irreversible— that your body was already surrendering before you'd fully let him in. the man believed you're out of this world, wanting you to feel everything— the swollen stretch of his length, the heat his body permeated, the hefty pressure of being entered this way, inch by inch around something so intimate.

"shh, i know," each of his words dragging deeper as his eyes lock on your face like it's a mirror to his own hunger, "you feel like silk, you feel like you're fighting it."

you are, yes, you're drowning in it.

his cock sinks deeper and the burn starts to slowly blur away, sensation blooming in sickening waves, pain and pleasure curling tight in your belly until you didn't know where one ends and the other begins. the sound of your body taking him was ringing through you and when his hips finally meet yours, you felt split, your thighs immediately jerking up, your stomach knotting as you make another desperate noise, both moaning into the kiss, exchanging your breaths as the feeling of him stretching you was to die for.

sylus doesn't move a lot in the beginning, just a few pumps ever so often to find out what you liked, although staying buried to the hilt, watching the flicker of your lashes and the way your mouth trembles open like you want to say something but cannot remember how to speak.

his pace was slow but steady, every grind of his hips forcing a soft, wet sound from between your legs as his hair brushes your cheek within each thrust, his warm breath prancing over your neck— yet when you finally start to unravel, when the pressure cracks you open and your breath breaks in a thousand shards, sylus seeks for your lips as you moan into them, a sound of you falling apart being the only thing holding him together.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ caleb

you're underneath caleb, your heart pounding with a noise that didn't belong to your body, although not from fear, not entirely, it's due to him, yes— his darling face and angelic voice, murmuring your name like he's never supposed to say anything else.

caleb cups your jaw as his thumb sweeps over your cheek lovingly, your skin already burning from the softness of his hands as your thighs were slightly twinging from the way they've stayed open, aching in the weight of him.

"you're sure, really?" he asks again like he doesn't believe it.

but you nod at him and it kills him, choking up on the storm of sensation as the man moves closer when you take in his scent, the air permeating of pine and sweat and warmth, the dampness of your skin pressed against each other as the weight of his cock repeatedly nudging against your entrance was something fated, something unstoppable.

he kisses you deeply, tongue slow and ravishing your lips, like he's trying to memorize the inside of your mouth before he captures you further, your body flinches when he takes you at last, choking on the sheer breadth of it.

the stretch was cutting, your body clamping down on instinct and body saving energy due to turning overwhelmed and confused.

yes, it was painful, you cannot lie to yourself, and slightly dizzying too, like something too large being forced into a space that's never known intrusion.

caleb's hands were everywhere, one holding your thighs wide open, the other gripping your hand tightly and grounding you as he presses his forehead to yours, his breath stuttering against your lips, "breathe," he whispers, voice slightly cracking when you tense down on his length, "breathe for me, i've got you."

he's barely halfway in, and you can already feel it— stretching deep, dragging against your nerves that have never been touched before, quite literally stealing the air from your lungs.

not to mention that he was big, well, you could've guessed that yet despite that, your body kept pulling him in instinctively, not wanting him to leave anymore.

caleb gasps, "you're so tight, fuck, i can feel you shaking," you were, in fact, your whole body was shaking, belly fluttering with pressure and pain and something else— something lusting and awfully blooming low inside your belly, tight and insistent as he shifts his hips forward, just a little more, and it feels like you're being split.

his cock continues to move, dragging every wet inch against your walls as your muscles squeeze him, your eyes glimmering from how good you were being fucked as you instantly open more for him, trying to accommodate him as good as possible.

"you're doing so good," he breathes, "so perfect, you don't know what you're doing to me," as tears prick your eyes when he kisses them ever so gently, even as he keeps sinking in he whispers your name again, like he's swearing an oath.

truly, he's everywhere, moaning shamelessly like your body was the only thing that's ever mattered to him, inhaling your maddening scent sharply as he kept rutting inside of you.

"i can't believe this is real," he cries out with his mouth against your temple and his hips rocking in and out, the friction too much as you're still too sensitive when dig your nails into his back to sob into his neck.

you're crying, you don't even know why, maybe it's the pain, maybe the stretch, maybe the way he kept whispering your name like it's the only thing he's ever wanted to say. with that, you clutch to him tighter, needing him closer, needing him deeper, and caleb gave it to you instantly, everything you desired— every inch, every rock of hips, every broken word of promises.

"you'll never need anyone else," he speaks as if the air itself was fragile, every word cutting deeper as he places a couple kisses on your cheek before smiling into the skin, "i'm going to keep you like this forever."

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[s0lidar1ty]

soft/frat!rafe taking care of drunk!reader after bumping into her at a party

The party music rings off the walls of your head. Your eyes blur, fading in and out as you hug the wall to help yourself toward the kitchen.

You've never been here. At least you don't remember it. Sarah invited you, but you lost her a few minutes earlier in the sea of bodies and flashing lights.

Your hand fumbles with the handle of the fridge door, the icy air spouting out as you open it and take the first bottle you see. Clear liquid moves inside, and you don't even think before you tilt it back. But what's in it is anything but water. The burning fire of the vodka shoots down your throat.

You hiss, dropping the bottle on the floor with a dull clunk, wincing through the sting. The floor shifts under your feet when you turn around, and you stumble right into someone.

"Shit—'m sorry," you mutter, words slurring. You try to step around them, but a hand wraps around your forearm, firm but not hard.

You know it's Rafe before you even raise your head.

 You know the way his hands feel.

His fingers tighten further around your wrist as he pulls you out of the crowd, through a doorway, and into a quieter room. As soon as you're in, it's familiar. The tall, mahogany desk, the bookshelves full of books—yeah. You've been here before.

The study.

Rafe turns you around to face him, fingers cupping your face, thumbs rubbing across your cheekbones as he attempts to focus your eyes on him. "Hey," he whispers, voice low and smooth. "How much did you have to drink?"

"I don't know. How much did you?" you snap back, your bratty nature emerging from the fog. You don’t mean to be hostile, but you are. You can’t help it.

He mocks a laugh, lifting your chin high with two fingers. "How much?" he repeats, slower now, his tone harder.

You swallow. He's upset. You can tell from the tightly drawn line of his jaw, hear it in the fall in his voice. He's not angry—he'd never hurt you—but the disappointment radiates off him in waves.

And that scares you. You never want to disappoint him. Ever.

Your back straightens automatically. "I don't remember," you confess, voice softer now, eyes flicking anywhere but his.

"Fuck you mean you don't remember?" His tone hurt more than he meant it to, his eyebrows creasing. "What are you even doing here?"

You feel tears threaten to well up in your eyes before you can catch them. You blink frantically, trying to make them disappear, but one slips out anyway. You rub it away quickly, annoyed with yourself. "I came with Sarah," you mutter.

His expression of anger flickers away, replaced with something gentler. His hands fall to your shoulders, moving in slow circles as he breathes in through his nose. "Hey, hey." His voice is soft now. "I'm not angry with you, princess—Im sorry for my tone, but I just wanna make sure you’re okay." He leans down, kissing your forehead. "I'm taking you home, okay? You need to have some water and get sobered up."

You nod, too exhausted to fight it.

And then you're home.  

You wake up, and you're on the couch in your apartment, the cushions molding around you as you move on top of them. The hazy glow of the kitchen light casts shadows on the floor, covering the room in warm, muted blackness.

Rafe is lying beside you, your face in his chest, his fingers drawing lazy patterns across your back. "You hungry?"

“I'm drunk,” You mutter.

He snorts. "So that's a yes." A hesitation. Then, with a knowing smile, "Chicken Alfredo?"

You hum back to him, the only response he receives.

"Okay," he whispers, kissing you on your forehead once more before getting up and heading into the kitchen.

The clang of the pan against the stove, the gentle clink of silverware, the distant rumble of the fridge door opening—it's all strangely soothing. You close your eyes, and you hear his periodic thuds as he moves about.

Rafe turns back over his shoulder to steal a glance at you, a slow grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You good, baby?"

You sigh softly, your voice heavy with tiredness. "You look good."

He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah? Your eyes are closed, baby, how can you see me right now?"

“I mean in general, smartass,” you shoot back, opening your eyes finally to back up your statement. “See? Eyes are open, and there’s still a handsome man in my kitchen.”

Rafe laughs, shaking his head in embarrassment. No matter how many you give, he’ll never get used to you giving compliments.

After a while, he puts two plates on the counter and walks over to the living room, kneeling next to the couch. He reaches out, his fingers tracing over your cheek, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "C'mon, baby. Eat first, then you can pass out, yeah?"

You take a deep breath, face buried in the pillow. "Don't wanna move."

"I'll feed you if I have to," he jokes, but there's a gentleness beneath.

You look up at him, a sly smile on your face as you tease, "That supposed to be a threat?"

He smiles. "It's a promise."

[poguelandiarafe]

showered in secrets | drew starkey

pairings - drew starkey x secretgf!reader

warnings - smut, unprotected sex (p in v)

summary - you and drew are in a secret relationship. or at least it’s a secret until drew forgets it is and follows you into the shower, prompting madelyn to interrogate you as to what he was doing.

masterlist

--------

the house is buzzing with excitement, the kind that only comes from the anticipation of a night out with your closest friends. you, along with drew, madison, jonathan and chase have decided to get ready at madelyn's house and have some drinks there before going out.

you're always at her house due to living close by and she always jokes about how you may as well move in from how often you're there, even to the point of having your own drawer full of clothes, shower stuff and a spare toothbrush. it's perfect for an impromptu sleepover.

"mads, can i use your shower please?" you ask, already going to grab your stuff.

"course, you know where it is." she replies, flashing you a smile.

you grab your stuff and a fresh towel and disappear into the bathroom. the sound of the shower running fills the bathroom as you step in, taking a minute to relax in the hot water. you're wrapped in your thoughts, unaware of drew letting himself in and calling out madelyn's name when he's met with a seemingly empty apartment.

----

meanwhile, drew is looking for you, a frown on his face when he sees you're not in the kitchen or living room. his frown deepens when he sees you're also not in madelyn's room while she's doing her hair.

"hey, is y/n here yet? thought she'd have been the first one here. not me." he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"she was actually," madelyn laughs, curling the last piece of hair, "she's just in the shower."

"oh, thanks." drew smiles, already making a beeline for the bathroom before he has a chance to realise what he's doing.

"drew?" she says, but he's already gone, "she's showering!"

his brows furrow in confusion, wondering why that was an issue, forgetting your relationship was a secret, "yeah, i know!"

stepping into the bathroom, the steam surrounds him and he takes a few seconds to stare at you, not having noticed he's in there.

"you should lock the door you know." he smirks, leaning against the door.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you spin around, eyes widening in realisation that he might've just blown your relationship.

"what are you doing in here?" you hiss.

his smirk falters once the realisation seems to register and you watch as his eye widen, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out.

"oh my god, drew." you groan, a sigh leaving your lips.

"shit." he chuckles awkwardly, "i asked madelyn where you were and she told me you were showering and well, i've never really not thought about joining you in the shower and i didn't realise and i'm so sorry i-"

"come here, stop rambling." you cut him off, reaching a hand out with a soft smile on your face.

stepping towards you, he grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. your heart melts at the way he's looking at you and you can't help but lean forward and cup his jaw to bring him into a soft kiss.

"are you mad at me?" drew asks.

"no, but you have to sometimes think before following me into the shower."

his smirk returns and there's a playful glint in his eye, "i do think about it. that's why i always end up in the shower with you."

you roll your eyes but don't stop the giggle escaping your lips, "you're impossible."

drew hums in response before letting go of your hand and pulling his shirt over his head wanting to join you. you go to tell him it's a bad idea but he's already kicking away his trousers and boxers and stepping in, his tall frame towering over you.

"you know, i don't think mads would appreciate if we fucked in her shower." you mumble, but a smile tugs at your lips regardless, arms wrapping around his neck.

"hey, i said nothing about fucking," he leans closer, arms sliding around your waist, and whispers, "but i reckon we have at least a bit of time before she gets too suspicious, don't you?"

you scoff, shaking your head from his boldness, "you're a bad influence, drew."

"yet you still love me." he mumbles, starting to kiss your shoulder, trailing up to your neck.

"course i do," you reply with a genuine smile, "always going to."

drew smiles against your skin and playfully bites at your neck, teasing you. you're so close to giving in, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin and large hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. glancing at the door, you bite your lip, contemplating, knowing your friends might be just down the hall by now.

"fuck it."

pulling his face from your neck, you stand on your tiptoes and capture his lips in a heavy kiss. he reacts instantly, walking you a few steps backward until your back is pressed against the cool tiled wall. the kiss is intense, messy, desperate, making you forget all about the fact your friends are probably wondering where you two are.

he pulls back, breathless, "gotta be quick."

rolling your eyes, you tease, "wow, romantic."

"shut up." he murmurs, but there's no malice in his words, "don't have time for foreplay baby, you gonna be okay?"

"mhmm, i'll be fine."

drew's arms encircle your waist again and lift you up, letting your legs wrap around him. your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and you look down in between your bodies, watching as he strokes himself a few times.

"ready?" he asks, noticing the way your breath hitches when he positions himself at your entrance.

"yeah."

he pushes forward, both of you letting out a low groan at the feeling. the stretch is teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, your jaw dropping in a silent moan. slowly, he continues to fill you until he's bottomed out, patiently waiting for you to tell him to move.

"shit," he moans when your pussy clenches around his length, "feel so good baby, so tight."

"move." you breathe out, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder.

the sound of skin slapping soon fills the small bathroom and you can't help but bite down on drew's shoulder to silence the moans threatening to escape.

"look at me," he demands, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, "you okay?"

"harder," you beg, pulling slightly at his hair, "please."

immediately, he complies, thrusting deeper and harder than before. you don't even realise how loud you're being until drew's lips are back on yours in an attempt to silence you.

you throw your head back when a particularly harsh thrust hits your g-spot perfectly and drew takes the opportunity to slide a hand down to rub circles on your clit.

"c-close." you whine, squirming in his arms due to your high quickly approaching.

as much as he loves to hear every moan and noise he can draw out of you, there's not a chance your relationship has the chance to stay a secret if he doesn't cover your mouth when you cum. so, he tells you to take over rubbing your clit and his hand covers your mouth instead, knowing any second now your high would hit you.

"cum for me y/n." he encourages, "come on pretty girl."

seconds later, your back is arching off the wall into his chest as your orgasm rips through you. his hips stutter, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggering his own orgasm.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." drew moans, his cum shooting into you.

his hand drops from your mouth, uncovering your giddy smile. you don't know how he still has the strength to hold you up, so you press a quick kiss to his lips and let him set you down, though your legs still feel like jelly.

"i love you." he mumbles, hands squeezing your hips as if emphasising his point.

"i love you too. think anyone heard us?" you question, grabbing your shampoo bottle, since you do still need to properly shower.

"probably."

----

ten minutes later, you're standing in front of the mirror staring at a faint hickey that's starting to form on your neck. clearly, your 'no visible marks' rule has gone out the window. you'd kicked drew out before getting on with washing your hair, not needing any more distractions. but now you wished you hadn't purely to get the chance to scold him for leaving a mark.

a voice brings you back to reality, "y/n? you out the shower? i need to pee."

it's madelyn.

"uh, yeah hold on!" you call back, readjusting your top and sorting out your hair, attempting to cover the mark.

when you open the door, she stands there, arms crossed. she's looking over you as if she knows something but can't quite figure out what.

then she spots it. what you thought was a faint mark turns out to be getting darker the more time passes. she decides not to bring it up though, wanting to see what you'll admit to her first.

"thought you needed to pee?"

"not anymore," madelyn replied, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her, "took you ages in the shower, you shaving your legs or something?"

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to figure out if she's being genuine or if she knows something. normally, she's easy to read, but now you don't know.

"just wanted to relax before the chaos hits soon." you gulp when she asks the next question.

"any idea why drew's hair was dry when he got here and it's now wet? or why he seemed to disappear for twenty minutes?"

your stomach flips and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. pathetic excuses fill your mind, excuses you know she'll never buy in a million years and you don't know what to say.

"what? how would i know? why're you asking me?" you laugh dryly.

"cause i know he had the whole 'greasy bangs' phase but i know drew enough to know he'd never be seen in public wearing this much hair gel and i don't have some luxurious pool he could've been using while i was finishing my hair."

"maybe he just... i don't know, splashed some water on his face or something?" you stammer, avoiding her gaze.

"okay, now i know you're lying. spill, i know something's going on with you two." madelyn smirks.

you sigh in defeat, "fine, but you can not say a word to anyone. i mean it."

her eyes light up and she nods quickly, "i promise. not a word. please tell me!"

you look between the door and her for a few seconds, thinking over the pros and cons, but she's your best friend. you have to tell her.

"i-uh, okay. me and drew are together. and not in a 'friends with benefits' kind of way. like, we're dating, have been for about four months," madelyn's jaw dropped, her hand covering her mouth, "but it's a secret so please don't mention it to anyone later. you're the only one that knows."

"oh my god, i knew it. you're so cute together." she squeals, hugging you.

"keep your voice down!" you whisper-shout but return her hug nonetheless.

"i want details later." she pleads.

"yes boss."

"also, i know you guys totally just had sex in the shower. i don't care, but if you don't want anyone to find out, cover the hickey. the hickey makes it so obvious." she winks at you before leaving the bathroom.

yeah, you definitely need to cover that.

[tsuyalovebot]

watch you entertain.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

synopsis: caleb comes to a few conclusions when you give him a blowjob for the first time.

cw: NSFW and explicit sexual content, mdni. established relationship. mentions of intercourse. oral sex (blowjob). mentions of reader receiving oral sex. hair pulling. imaginative violence (not to reader). petnames (pretty, pipsqueak). mention of oral sex (receiving). he slaps his dick on your face (not sorry). mention of spanking and watching porn. caleb-typical warnings.

wc: 1.7k (drabble....ish????)

author's note: i can't defend myself since 90% of this is word vomit. i'm working on another caleb piece right now, but i needed to get this out of my system. think of it as a precursor piece, like an hors d'oeuvres. also, please disregard any typos. (— - —)|||

The first time Caleb felt your lips on his was magical. The second, third, fourth, and succeeding times were all but surreal.

He had all but convinced himself that your mouth, pressed to his in a flurry of tender touches or desirous cravings, was something he conjured up in the blurry moments of his delusions. You always manage to kiss them away, though.

Later on, you admitted that he was your first kiss.

"When I visited you after you moved out," you said. Hands wrung, your gaze averted downward as you were perched on his lap one evening.

He knows what you're talking about. Remembers its vividness with a startling clarity that would have embarrassed him otherwise, if you didn't share the same sentiments.

By now, you've already kissed and made out in the intimacy of his place beyond finite counting. Had sex with him on whatever surface the two of you could get your hands on. You've long since spoiled him with your presence, both physical and mental. There's a key tucked away in his headspace with your name engraved into the metal. Magnetic and the signification of a special place for you in his heart.

He spoiled you, and now, you spoil him. Neither of you complain about this mutually beneficial arrangement. Why would you?

Though, he can't say he's exactly pleased at the current moment.

"That's it, mmm. You're being so sweet today."

He's watching you, as he always is. You're on your knees before him—you insisted, said it added to the atmosphere despite his crows of indignance at the possibility of them bruising—and your mouth impossibly full of his cock.

You're bare before him, towel discarded on the coffee table with your body damp and he's barely presentable in his uniform. Disheveled and pants undone, he wasn't sure if he was exactly living up to the honorable nature of the clothes he donned. He tried to undress, but you'd been pawing at him the second he walked through the doorstep in nothing but one of the towels he bought you, so his resistance was doomed from the start.

His arms spread on the top of the couch, he tilts his head back and sighs slowly. Hot breath escapes him in time with his Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing a heavy moan that threatens to break free. It takes him a few moments before he peers at your kneeling form once more.

One of his hands cups your cheek, the cool leather swiping over your cheekbone and pushing some of your hair back. Rapt attention on you, whispering soft words of, "that's how you do it" and "a biiit wider, pipsqueak— yeah, like that" with so much appreciation in his tone. Because that's what he feels toward you right now; so much appreciation in his heart belongs to you.

Your tongue was doing sinful licks along the underside of his cock's curve, the girth hefty in your two hands, and your eyes stayed closed in a quiet pleasure. It's expertly done, and the creation of human response as you wrap those pretty pink lips around the tip of him and suckle on it, strings of your saliva leaving sticky wefts along the shaft.

Alternating between peppering his length in kisses and taking a couple inches into your mouth, he's fighting for his fucking life trying to not bust a nut. He's sort of ashamed to have dreamt of this moment for years. You would never let him live it down.

As if the deities couldn't get enough of his suffering, his mind had made the fatal mistake of noting the visible difference of the size of him and your hands and your mouth. It gets him going, that stark contrast and how gently you were treating him.

It's a sight reserved for his eyes alone. Something he wants to pocket and immortalize because it's his and only his. That's the only reason for the powerful plethora of emotions boiling over in his gut. Truly, the only reason.

That's what he tells himself as he observes you with a progressively darkening, clinical, dead-eyed stare that you weren't aware of. A little voice in him nagging at his conscience, spitting words of venom that feeds into the slowly, slowly expanding green-eyed monster rising onto its feet.

"I got a question for you, pretty," he says calmly, deceptively so. Making sure to sound as casual as possible, his gloved hand coming to stroke over your damp, silky hair. You really just couldn't wait to please him, immediately pawing at him when he arrived home and you were fresh out the bath.

You murmur something in reply, lips suctioned to his shaft. Those gorgeous eyes, ones that beheld him with such reverence and adoration in round shape flicker up to his. The vibrations and sight hit him like a freight train and he groans, low and deep. He lets the pleasure settle into his bones.

"You have to answer honestly, 'kay?" He croons down at you, assuring. His facial expression had finally relaxed from its initial, contemplative one. You're happy with this, he notes as you eagerly bob your head, careful to remain quiet.

Good. It'll make hearing your voice all the more worth it. When you said he was your first kiss, he was beyond ecstatic.

Hopefully, you can echo the same thing now.

With an easygoing air betraying that of his positively threatening smile, he asks, "Where'd you learn how to do this?"

There's a sick sense of pleasure in watching you process his words a second too lats. Because you're such an open book with him, aren't you? The way your eyes widen and your lips halt, as if your heart stopped even beating. Even if makes his own blackened heart speed up, its thudding resembling a rabbit's stomping.

Your blinks were a linguistic of their own, and he was the expert in unraveling the lexicology of your existence.

You don't answer fast enough. Or, you don't answer at all. Because now, you're staring him like a child chastised for having their hand in a candy jar—where they weren't supposed to be.

Unfortunately for you, that was more than telling for him.

Caleb doesn't speak. The air is several degrees colder now, like the air circulation was suddenlt cut off, and he drinks in the way anticipation tenses your muscles and your uneven breaths smooth over his skin when you pop your lips off his cock. Those sinful lips that he stole away as his were now glistening in a mix of your spittle and his pre-cum.

He could almost forgive you right now. But, you make the crucial mistake of looking away from him.

"Oh?" It's inquisitive—his tone, yet it has the power of a knife being drawn.

The hand on your head loses its comforting, encouraging air and instead becomes a weight.

A threat.

The visual that's formulating in his head isn't a pleasant one. An image of stained glass shards, blurry yet clear in the vision of you on your knees for another guy. The scattered light capturing your mouth wrapped around the faceless stranger, servicing him the same way you're handling Caleb, seeking that same, sickly sweet tang of validation.

Could it have been that Xavier guy he sees on your phone notifications from time to time? Or is it someone closer to you, from your Association? There's a chance someone else from your childhood reached out to you, maybe after his disappearance. Did they hold you in ways he's been craving to hold you for years?

That's not fair, now, is it? He's worn your hairtie around his wrist for years, disregarded countless scribbled love letters from bystanders, based his little trinkets around those apples you love so much, and spoiled you countless times in his misplaced desire for playing the role of your protector. It simply isn't fair that you sought gratification from a source that wasn't him—because for him, it was always you.

Is it too selfish of him to want your everything?

You don't say anything even as your mouth opens and closes. You're either searching for an excuse, weighing the costs of lying to him at the moment, or you're genuinely floundering for words at the sudden blankness in your head.

He hums again, and it's lower than before. Full of thought and contemplation as his amethyst eyes bore holes into your speechless state. It's full of disappointment and he sees the worry creep into your eyes like a leaking faucet.

Threading his gloved fingers into the tresses of your hair, its smooth leather massaging your scalp, his face softens.

"I guess I did say you should be honest, not fast," he murmurs, laughing to himself quietly.

His lips tilt into a boyish sort of grin, and it's so full of mirth and entertainment that it's easy to process as him diffusing the situation. It works like so, and you're soon tilting your head into his palm and seeking his touch.

In the distance, the kettle in the kitchen screeches like an alarm of what's to come.

Disconcertingly relaxed, his smile seems absolutely sarcastic. A bit sharp at the edges.

"I should make it easier to understand. Let me rephrase it, then."

He pulls your hair. It's one harsh motion and it jerks your head up. A gasp torn from your lips as they fall open, the slight sting shooting through your body with an charged breeze.

"Who did you learn this from?"

He's so used to tasting you before fucking; your sex and his tongue are practically best friends in his eyes. It never once occurred to him to have you suck him off.

He should've been suspicious the second you offered to begin with.

The blood drains from your face some more and he relishes the blank yet alert state your eyes reflect. He's sure your mind is in disarray right now. The feeling is mutual, though you're aware of that too, most likely.

"I have a right to know. I always said that you could come to me if you needed help with anything, right?" It's a rhetorical question. You both know that. You're doomed either way.

You make another breathless noise, and he wants to explore your vocality. Now, how would you sound gagging on him?

"Caleb—"

He shushes you softly and you quiet down in an instant.

"I don't need an answer that isn't related to my question, don't you agree?"

Another rhetorical question as he cocks his head, the gesture mocking.

"You're always tellin' me to be honest and share my thoughts with you. I'm bein' honest now. Everything should be mutual, so, answer my question. I might even go easy on you."

You're totally panicking now, aren't you?

His other hand wraps around the base of his cock and he slaps the shaft onto your cheek, then smearing his leaking tip over your glistening lips, a thoughtful smile playing on his own as if he were offering you candy.

"And depending on how you answer, I'm either taking you over my knee while you spell their name out, or you'll be showing me exactly what pornos you've been watching without my knowledge. So, what's it gonna be?"

[homeofthelonelywriter]

A little gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader

It all started just a few weeks after you began streaming. Gaming had always been a hobby of yours and after some encouragement from your friends, you created a Twitch account and just started streaming whatever you were playing at the moment. It was truly a variety, going from cozy games like Animal Crossing to more hardcore games like GTFO or Call of Duty. The latter one was where you were randomly paired with him. The infamous, and very popular, Ghost.

He was another streamer, known for his content, but also for his mystic. Aside from the fact that he had the habit of disappearing every now and then, he also never showed his face, only his voice drawing in his thousands of viewers. But it was enough. However, his just as mysterious social media helped. Girls and guys alike were drooling over his shirtless gym pics or the one with just his forearm and hand, the veins protruding. You had to admit, you were one of those girls, although you would never admit it out loud. Especially the ones of him with his helmet on, in full biker gear, in front of his machine? You could stare at those for days.

The moment you saw his name as one of the players in your team, you choked on your drink, almost coughing it up all over your keyboard. The few dozen viewers you had, also pointed out who you were paired with and you just hoped that the low lighting and shitty face cam you had, hid the blush on your cheeks~~, it did not~~. In the beginning, everything went well, as you slowly melted, the more Ghost spoke. As per usual, you had turned off your in-game voice, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, as a female gamer.

But rather quickly, it was just you and Ghost left. “You got a mic, mate?” Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, about to respond via chat before some courage sparked inside you and you quickly activated it. “Yeah, sorry.” It was silent for a few moments before he answered in a low purr. “’s alright, love. Let’s get those fuckers, yeah?” You couldn’t help but giggle softly while nodding. “Yeah, let’s get them.”

The rest of the round went well and you managed to mostly ignore the comments in your chat, which slowly started to grow with viewers, about how cute you and Ghost were. No way that he would even be slightly interested. With just one opponent left, you were about to take the shot, when your cat jumped up onto your table, startling you. A quiet yelp left your lips, and Ghost’s response was immediate. “Are you okay? What happened?” As quietly as you could, you shooed your cat away, but not without getting shot in-game. “Fuck…I-I’m sorry. My cat scared me and I…shit, sorry Ghost, I…” As your character lied on the ground, you watched as his character came sprinting over. “Don’t worry, lovie. I got you.” He quickly healed you. “There you go, now go get him.” He could have done it, easily. But he let you do it and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The match ended with your team winning and you were about to say goodbye to the mystery when a steam message popped up. Here’s my Discord @ghost.real. Hit me up if you want to play, yeah? With a permanent grin, you added him, before continuing your stream.

While in another match, you were blissfully unaware of what was happening, until a friend who was modding your chat for you, messaged you. GIRL HE RAIDED YOU! Startled, you looked to your right and noticed that she was right. Your viewers were now in the hundreds of thousands, your follows and subscriptions went through the roof as you just watched with a stunned face.

Good night, love. Your eyes followed the message until it disappeared in your chat and you still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Next Part

A/N: Definitely didn't write this because I'm crushing hard on one of the guys I game with. No, no way. Also, wouldn't mind turning this into a small series, you guys interested? Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes @tessakate